Gamos in Archaic and Classical Greek Poetry

UNIVERSITY COLLEGE LONDON

DEPARTMENT OF GREEK AND LATIN

GAMOS IN ARCHAIC AND CLASSICAL GREEK POETRY

THEME, RITUAL AND METAPHOR

STYLIANI PAPASTAMATI

Thesis submitted to the University College London

for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

December 2012

I, Styliani Papastamati, confirm that the work presented in this thesis is my own. Where information has been derived from other sources, I confirm that this has been indicated in the thesis.

Abstract

Marriage is everywhere in Greek poetry of all periods. Yet the poetic use of marriage receives only partial and occasional attention in modern scholarship. The present study seeks to fill this gap in part by examining the use of marriage in archaic and classical

Greek poetry from Homer to Menander. My interest in is the ways marriage in its various forms contributes to the thematic concerns and purposes of the poetic genre in which it is employed. Though the focus is not primarily historical, the project is influenced by New Historicism, in that it seeks to explore the use of marriage within the experiential and conceptual frameworks of the first audience(s). It also draws (less markedly) on feminist criticism and on research in archaeology and sociopolitic- al history.

Chapter 1 addresses the use of marriage imagery in Pindarpromote to the acknowledgement of victory and delineate the athlete’s new status in his community.

Chapter 2 examines the use of marriage as an ending in Greek drama, both the (often) formalist use in the Euripideandeus ex machina interventions and its climactic use in comedy as a means to encapsulate the comic hero’s success. Marriage as plot ending reaches its peak in New Comedy, where it forms the natural and inevitable resolution of the plot. Chapter 3 deals with the motif of missedgamos in Greek tragedy both to generate pathos and to articulate themes of choice, distortion, and destruction ofoikos and polis. Chapter 4 looks at the way the perversion of marital norms in Aeschylus extends to the gradual destruction ofoikos and expands to thepolis . Chapter 5 is engaged with good gamos. This is to a large extent a poetics of absence, in that ideal

3 marriages in Greek poetry are depicted in the impending or actual separation of the two partners.

Contents

ABSTRACT ...... 3

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... 8

EDITIONS, TRANSLATIONS AND ABBREVIATIONS ...... 12

INTRODUCTION ...... 14

1. Preamble ...... 14

2. Greek marriage ...... 14 a. Definition ...... 14 b. Ritual ...... 16 c. Ideology ...... 20

3. Previous scholarship on marriage and its contexts ...... 25 a. Historical works ...... 25 b. Literature ...... 26

4. Aim of this thesis ...... 32

5. Material and methods ...... 34

CHAPTER 1: GAMOS AND VICTORY IN THE PINDARIC EPINICIAN ...... 39

1. Introduction ...... 39

2. Marriage as telos ...... 48

3. Mythologizing gamos: The winning of the bride ...... 52

4. The public celebration ...... 64

5. Song ...... 73

6. Conclusion ...... 82

CHAPTER 2: GAMOS AS TELOS IN DRAMA ...... 84

1. Introduction ...... 84

2. Tragedy ...... 87 a. The device ...... 89 b. Closural position and thematic relevance: marriage, and destruction and irregularities in the oikos ...... 91 c. Remarriage as closure ...... 104 d. Gamos as telos in Sophocles ...... 109

3. Comedy ...... 115 a. Aristophanic gamos, hieros gamos and the comic genre ...... 116 b. Aristophanic gamos and the creation of utopia: a case of Aristophanic myth-making ...... 128 c. Aristophanic gamos and the victory of the comic poet ...... 133

4. New Comedy and Menander ...... 137 a. Marriage as an element of the plot ...... 138 b. Marriage as a metaphor ...... 145 c. Menander in his contexts ...... 148

5. Conclusion ...... 152

CHAPTER 3: MISSED GAMOS ...... 154

1. Introduction ...... 154

2. Enhancement of pathos ...... 155

3. Prohairesis ...... 165

4. Articulating loss: the individual, the oikos and the polis in the case of male lost nuptials ...... 178

5. The language of non-gamos as an expression of distortion and perversion ...... 186

6. Marriage as microcosm ...... 193

7. Articulating the missed passage to completion ...... 201

8. Conclusion ...... 207

CHAPTER 4: PERVERTED MARRIAGE IN AESCHYLUS ...... 209

1. Introduction ...... 209

2. The Oresteia ...... 210 a. Perversion of marriage and the cycle of destruction of the oikos ...... 211 b. The case of Clytemnestra: from the destruction of the oikos to the destruction of the polis ... 218 c. Marriage and telos: the closure of the Oresteia ...... 225

3. The Supplices ...... 233 a. Marital aberrance: views and behaviours ...... 235 b. Exploring marriage through its perversion ...... 242 c. Marriage as device for addressing other thematic concerns of the play-trilogy ...... 249

4. Conclusion ...... 251

CHAPTER 5: GOOD GAMOS ...... 252

1. Introduction ...... 252

2. Epic ...... 253 a. The Iliad ...... 253 b. The Odyssey ...... 262

3. Tragedy ...... 273

4. Conclusion ...... 285

CONCLUSION ...... 287

REFERENCES ...... 289

Acknowledgements

This dissertation would never have been possible without the support of many people.

Firstly, I wish to express my sincerest gratitude to my supervisor Professor Christopher

Carey. He kindly agreed to supervise me and then excelled in his duties; he never denied me help and spent many hours assisting me in times of distress. Words fail todescribe my debt to him for all he has offered to me, help, knowledge, insights.

My heartfelt thanks also go to Dr Stephen Colvin for his continuous support and reading of successive drafts of my work and Dr Emmanuela Bakola for challenging discussion on issues of interpretation. I am grateful to Dr Ita Hilton for proof-reading my thesis.

Parts of this dissertation were presented in the Annual Meeting of Postgraduates in

Ancient Literature, the Classical Association Conference in Durham and the Menander

Conference in Nottingham. I thank the audiences there for their feedback. I also thank the Department of Greek and Latin, UCL Graduate School, Thomas Wiedemann Trust and the Hellenic Society for funding my presentations at these conferences.

To conclude with those nearest and dearest to me, I would like to express my thankfulness to those people without whose help this dissertation would never have been brought to completion. Aspasia Skouroumouni was always at the other end of the line for me, and consoled and advised me in both academic and nonacademic- issues. My brother Yiannis was constantly comforting me and was there for me whenever I needed

8 him; his brotherly support was priceless. Last and certainly not least, Maria Spanou and especially Evangelia and Orestis Vamvakas put up with and stood by me during the most difficult phases of my studies here, from their very beginning until their completion. They made my life here enjoyable and the burden of my research lighter.

Without them I would have been a different person. I cannot thank them enough for their love and friendship.

Nevertheless, this dissertation is in many ways the result of my parents’ expenses and sacrifices. They supported me beforehand and throughout, and at much cost to themselves. Alongside his academic duties my father had literally taught throughout

Greece to help me financially. To my mother I owe even my love for ancient Greek. She initiated me in Greek Language and Literature and diligently took care of my education, teaching me Greek from the time I was a young child until my University entry. Without her moral support I would never have pursued postgraduate studies here. Both my parents did not hesitate to deprive themselves of any comfort they deserve and have worked for, in theirconcern for my well-being here, fulfilling my dreams in every possible manner. To them I dedicate this dissertation asἐ λάχιστον ἀντίδωρον for their unfailing love and all their sacrifices.

London, December 2012

Editions, Translations and Abbreviations

Aristophanes, Sophocles, Euripides and Homer are cited from Wilson (2007), Lloyd-

Jones and Wilson (1990), Diggle (1981, 1984, 1994) and Monro and Allen (191746)-

OCT respectively. Extant Aeschylean plays are after West (1998). Pindar follows Snell and Maehler (1980). The text for Menander followsSandbach (19902). The text for

Aeschylean fragments is cited after Sommerstein (2008c), unless stated otherwise. The text for Euripidean fragments follows Collard and Cropp (2008).

The translations for Homer’sIliad and Odyssey, Pindar, Aeschylus, Sophocles,

Euripides, Aristophanes and Menander are cited from Murray and Wyatt1999 ( 2) and

Murray and Dimock (19952), Race (1997), Sommerstein (2008a, 2008b, 2008c), Lloyd-

Jones (1994), Kovacs (1994-2002), Henderson (1998, 2000), and Arnott (1996, 1997c,

2000) respectively.

Abbreviations of journals follow L’ Année philologique.

For my parents, Diamantis and Agapi

Introduction

1. Preamble

The institution of marriage is a near-universal phenomenon, though it shows a range of culturally specific features. Its nature and even significance are distinct in different cultures. Unsurprisingly, given its often central role, it also features, with differing degrees of prominence, in the creative literature of many cultures, and with a variety of characteristics. In ancient Greece, marriage was one of the fundamental building blocks of society. Its central role and its broad coherence across time and space gave it a

(continuing) currency which made it a major theme in Greek literature across genres and over time, where it plays a variety of different roles– as plot content, structural device, recurrent theme, or metaphor – in different contexts. It is this literary use of marriage which forms the focus of this thesis.

2. Greek marriage

a. Definition

The Greek word for marriage gamos is . Ιt is used of formal marriage that is a solemnized and socially recognized sexual union between two adults who after an approved ritual live together forming a family unit (Greek oikos).1 The term is also used in verse texts – although in a limited range of literature such as Pindar and tragedy – to

1 Reinsberg (1989) 15-7 with Patterson (1991) 48-61; cf. Oakley and Sinos (1993) 9, Rehm (1994) 18, Patterson (1998) 3-4, 107-37, esp. 108-9. 14 denote informal sexual unions.2 This might seem at first sight to cause difficulty for a project such as this one. Inpractice , however, the problems are limited. In some cases, as in Trachiniae, the fluid use contributes to plot focus on problems within or around marriage3. In others it could be argued that the terminology highlights in one way or another the aberrant ture na of relationships which mimic or distort marriage (as

Hom.Od. 1.36, Eur.Tr. 932). All these fall naturally within the scope of a work such as this. The small residue of looser use is sufficiently clear to limit the potential for confusion.

For legitimate gamos there were two prerequisites in ancient Greece. The first is the procedure of the engye, a formal agreement between the father of the girl and the future husband, the subsequent wedding ritual.4 Ideally, the marriage would be sealed by the eventual birth of children (especially male), after a year or more. In classical Athens at least, and possibly elsewhere, there were additional elements such as the registration of the children of this oikos in the phratry.5 My interest here however is less in such local variations than in the features common to a Greek marriage.

2 συνοικέω is another verb used for marriage. This word, too, as gamos, contains some ambiguity. Ιt can denote either legitimate marriages or cohabitations of any kind (LSJ, s.v.). 3 This instance might be classed under what Easterling (Easterling b (1997) 25) has called ‘heroic vagueness’. 4 Oakley and Sinos (1993) 9-10. 5 Cf. pp. 20-1 and Lacey (1968) 110-2. 15 b. Ritual

The ritual of gamos in its broad outlines was a Panhellenic institution.6 For the wedding ritual itself, our sources are mostly Athenian, but the rites are broadly consistent across the Greek world, despite minor local variations.7 For instance, the procession is certainly a common feature; it occurs as early as in the description of the shield of

Achilles in Iliad 18 and then it is also illustrated on Athenian black figure vases. Here I will attempt to present a brief picture of the wedding ritual in outline in order to have a general picture of the Greek wedding, based on Oakley and Sinos (1993).

The legal precedent to weddings wasἐγγύη (engye), a kind of a premarital contract between the father of the bride and the bridegroom; this included the bridegroom’s promise that he would take the bride – and in that sense was a kind of betrothal– and also the agreement on the dowry provided, which functioned as a substantial obstacle to divorces (cf. P.O.7).8 In Athens, the engye involved (after 451/450 BC) the father’s declaration that his daughter was Athenian – so that the children would be γνήσιοι, legitimate, citizens.9

The first key phase of the wedding ritual itself is the purification bath taken by both the bridegroom and the bride.10 The bath of the bride was the more distinctive one: in

Athens she went to the Acropolis, to a spring called Kallirhoe, accompanied by a

6 OCD4 s.v. ‘marriage ceremonies’ and ‘betrothal’. 7 Cf. Oakley and Sinos (1993) 5. 8 Lacey (1968) 105-6, Redfield (1982) 186, Oakley and Sinos (1993) 9-10. 9 Just (1989) 47-8, 60-4, 73-5, Hartmann (2002) 79-84, cf. Wagner-Hasel (1997) 894-5. 10 Hartmann (2002) 84-5, Reilly (1989) 424-5, cf. Reinsberg (1989) 51-2, 54-5, Hague (1988) 32-3.

16 procession.11 The next important stage of the ritual is the feast at the bride’s house and her unveiling. As well as its social significance, this public celebration had an authenticating function, in that it was used as proof that the marriage was legal, as stated in forensic speeches.12 In a (still) oral society, marriage was ‘documented’ not with physical text but through witnessed actions. The public celebration was indispensable in that it provided the witnesses needed.13 Apart from this practical part there was a social aspect to this civic presence: the newoikos was accepted and acknowledged by the community and was integrated into it.14 At the beginning of this feast the bride was veiled; the husband himself had not seen his bride until then. The veil and the action of the unveiling (ἀνακαλυπτήρια) were thus crucial not only for the groom but for the wedding itself, as well. This was a point of transition in the bride’s life: she was elevated to the status of wife/woman (gyne) from maiden (parthenos).15

After the feast, the pair was escorted to the bridegroom’s house, their future home. This transfer took the form of a public procession. The broad features of this procession can

11 Hartmann (2002) 84-5, cf. Reinsberg (1989) 51-2, 54-5. There are two λουτροφόροι (Athens, number 1453, ARV2 1127 and Karlsruhe, Badisches Landesmuseum, number 69/78) which have as theme the procession. The representation of the groom’s bath is rare (cf. Hague (1988) 33) and so the information on it is rather poor. There exists, though, ὑ anδρία from Warsaw (National Museum, number 142 293) depicting such a bath: the groom takes his bath in a big, flat basin. 12 Hague (1988) 34, Hartmann (2002) 88. 13 Cf. Reinsberg (1989) 50. 14 At O.7.6 Pindar points to this role of the community indirectly through the adjective ζαλωτός. 15 Hague (1988) 35. (There are not many representations of this unveiling, but an image can be created (Skyphoid Pyxis, Pushkin Museum 510, 330/20 BC, Moscow, b) Boston, Museum of Fine Arts, 10223, 440/30 BC). The bride is sitting opposite her husband. She is veiled and only her eyes and nose can be discerned. A girl behind her, theνυμφεύτρια , unveils her. There is a man behind the groom, too, the πάροχος. The winged ἔρως with a ribbon is a theme of the unveiling, too. The καταχύσματα, nuts thrown on the pair, appear, too, occasionally (Reinsberg 1989)( 57-8, Oakley and Sinos (1993) 83, fgs. 601,- cf. Reilly (1989) 418, Hague (1988) 34).)

17 be reconstructed from the surviving illustrations on vases16: the pair constituted the focus; they walked or drove on mules or horses. The bride and the groom would often wear garlands; the groom sometimes held a staff as well and the bride her veil, or this was touched or possibly removed by another woman, called a νυμφεύτρια. Women carried torches, which were an essential feature. An important aspect was that the pair were never alone; they were surrounded by other people; this was an event which encompassed the whole community.17 The procession had a special significance,18 as the representations of weddings on vases show. As in the wedding feast, the presence of a wider civic community confirmed the social acceptance and legal and religious validity of the marriage.19 The procession ended with the reception of the bride and the groom by the groom’s mother, who stood at the entrance of the new house of the pair; she too held two torches to receive the groom and the bride. The groom then took his wife off the vehicle20 and they entered their new common oikos. Finally the pair retired to their bedroom to consummate the union. The wedding was completed the next day by another celebration (epaulia).21

16 A) Athens, National Museum 1174, b) Berlin, Staatliche Museen, Preussischer Kulturbesitz (Ost) 3373, c) New York, Metropolitan Museum, 56.11.1, d)Berlin, Staatliche Museen, Preussischer Kulturbesitz Antikenmuseum 2372, e) Athens, National Museum 1388, Berlin, f) Staatliche Museen, Preussischer Kulturbesitz Antikenmuseum F 2530, g) London, British Museum 1920.1221.1,- h) Florence, Museo Archeologico Nazionale 3790, i) Ferrara, Museo Archeologico Nazionale 2893 and j) the Attic red-figure pointed ἀμφορά by the Copenhagen Painter, New York, Levy collection. 17 Cf. Peleus and Thetis surrounded by the gods in the vase from Florence, Museo Archeologico Nazionale 3790. 18 Oakley and Sinos (1993) 26, cf. Hartmann (2002) 87. 19 Hartmann (2002) 87-8. 20 Reinsberg (1989) 58-63, Oakley and Sinos (1993) pp. 92-4, fgs. 75-8, p. 97, fig. 85, pp. 99-100, fgs. 87- 9, pp. 84, 91, 112-4, fgs. 62-3, 74, 108-11. 21 Oakley and Sinos (1993) 10, 38-42. 18

To all these celebrations, songs in the form of wedding song hymenaios( , epithalamion) were an integral element.22 Sappho’s epithalamia are particularly informative about

Greek weddings, since she is the only Greek poet who provides us with what seem to be authentic wedding songs.23 These songs were performed in collective celebrations,24 mainly during the procession towards the new oikos but also at the feast at the house of the bride, and outside the new house orchamber of the couple as well.25 In the context of the wedding celebration, they contributed to the public expression of the legitimacy of the marriage.26 The notion of transition was central to thehymenaios itself.27 It articulates the idea that marriage is a transition both to a new status and to a new oikos.28

The motifs of wedding songs could be summarized inthe following: a refrain (Ὑμὴν ὦ

Ὑμέναιε), the praise of the pair getting married, and specifically the makarismos

(Sappho, frr. 105, 113 and frr.115-7), the expression of the good fortune of the couple.29

Sappho also casts light on thebride’s feelings of anxiety for the loss of virginity (fr.

114), or a more general fear of the male sex (fr.105), another motif of the wedding

22 Hague (1983) 131, Contiades-Tsitsoni (1990) 35, Swift (2010) 242. There does not seem to exist a clear distinction between the termshymenaios and epithalamion, despite the traditional one which used hymenaios for the wedding songs performed during the procession from theoikos of the bride to her new oikos, and the term epithalamion in the occasion of singing outside the bridal chamber. This approach is not confirmed by the evidence of the surviving texts (Swift (2010) 242-3; cf. Contiades-Tsitsoni (1990) 30-2). Wedding song forms the subject of a monograph by Badnall (2008). 23 Swift (2010) 244. In particular, Sappho’s wedding songs focus on those stages which were essential to the ritual and marriage itself: the procession to the bride’s home (fr.27), the feast there (cf. frr.31, 112), the procession to the groom’s home (fr. 44) and images from the wedding nigh(frr.t 30, 103B, 110 for instance). 24 Cf. Badnall (2008) 30-31. 25 Hague (1983) 132, Oakley-Sinos (1993) 11, 23-30 passim, 38-44 passim; cf. Swift (2010) 242. 26 Cf. Badnall (2008) 30-31. 27 Swift (2010) 249-50. 28 Badnall (2008) 32-4, Swift (2010) 247, 249-50; cf. Oakley and Sinos (1993) 1. 29 Contiades-Tsitsoni (1990) 94-99, also 102, Swift (2010) 245, 246-8; cf. Hague (1983) esp. 133-140 and Oakley-Sinos (1993) 234,- MacLachlan (1997) 183, Badnall (2008) 435;- on makarismos, see Hague (1983) 134-5. 19 song.30 The fear of the passage from virginity to marital status is expressed in this context in the form of a lament.31

c. Ideology

The wedding ritual outlined above is veryuseful for unravelling the Greek mentality regarding marriage, in that it encodes the notions central to marriage ideology into specific rites which form the Greek wedding.32 Marriage is a multi-layered institution in archaic and classical Greece: it had ramifications for the individuals getting married, for the relationship between their families, for their families themselves as unitsoikoi ( ) of the polis and for the polis itself.

Marriage was of fundamental value both to the oikos and to the entire polis.33 It created and maintained an oikos,34 and contributed both to the preservation of the oikos itself and to that of its property.35 Yet, being a unit of the larger civic community, theoikos further provided for the continuation of thepolis , reflected in the strong civic character of marriage celebration.36 This formal aspect was essential because it was one of the ways which served to guarantee the legitimacy of the offspring of this marital union. In civic communities, which were anxious to ensure the continuous regeneration of the body of legitimate itizens, c marriage was an ideal way to control and supervise this

30 Contiades-Tsitsoni (1990) 99, MacLachlan (1997) 182, Drew-Griffith (1989) 60; cf. Badnall (2008) 79. 31 Badnall (2008) 7, 13, 17-20. 32 Oakley and Sinos (1993) 1, 3. 33 Cf. Ormand (1999) 9-14. 34 Lacey (1968) 113, cf. Lacey (1968) 140, Pomeroy (1997) 33. This is also indicated by the use of the verb συνοικέω for ‘living in marriage’ (cf. Lacey (1968) 112). 35 Gould (1980) 44-5. 36 Oakley and Sinos (1993) 4. 20 procedure. In classical Athens in particular, as noted above, this legitimacy was secured by registration in the phratry or in thedeme (in the times of Cleisthenes), which happened only after the birth of the first child, its presentation to the other members of the oikos on the tenth day in a big celebratory festival, and the oath of the father that the child was a legitimate citizen.37 This is the reason why marriage was a cornerstone of civic ideology, at least in Athens. Marriage had then a double character, public and private38, and it thus acted jointly in the common interest of the oikos and the polis.39

Secondly, marriage was an act of exchange among males, as formally represented in the procedure of the engye.40 Marriage was an alliance based on the agreement of two males, the father of the bride and the bridegroom, and sealed by the arrangement of the dowry.

Thirdly, gamos was regarded as a telos for human beings, the agent of their fulfilment.41

There is no primary material from ancient Greece which offers an explanation of the way that gamos brought about this fulfilment. We can suggest that marriage was an important marker of biological maturity, of social maturity: it places both male and

37 Lacey (1968) 111-2, 129. 38 Patterson (1998) 131-2. 39 Cf. Patterson (1998) 112. 40 Cf. Rabinowitz (1993) 4ff., esp. 15-7, Wohl (1998) pp. xiii-xxxvii, Ormand (1999) 13. 41 Cf. Lattimore’s (1942) 192 words: ‘The death of a virgin involves a lack of completeness; it means an unfinished life.’ Lebeck (1971) 68-73 also speaks of ‘the telos of marriage’ but she speaks more about the way marriage is fulfilled and she does not treat it as the way of fulfilling human existence.

21 female in a position to form anoikos and create the next generation of the family. This applied both to males and to females, although not in the same way.42

Greek literature offers supporting evidence for this. For instance,Pindar speaks of gamos as τελευτά (P.9.66).43 Aeschylus describes children and marriage as atelos : πρὸ

παίδων καὶ γαμηλίου τέλους (Eum.835), as well.44 Sophocles mentions τὰ νυμφικὰ τέλη

(Ant.1240-1). This notion of gamos as telos is enshrined in Greek religion and cult.45

The hieros gamos of Zeus and Hera was regarded as the prototype for the human marriage. In this union Zeusteleios transmits his perfect status to Herateleia

(γημαμένην δὲ {ἔτι} τῷ Διὶ ἐκάλεσεν αὐτὴν Τελείαν, Paus.8.22), and telos is achieved through gamos (Phot.s.v. τέλεον: τελείους τοὺς γεγαμηκότας καλοῦσιν, καὶ τελειωθῆναι

τὸ γῆμαι).46

Although marriage is easily understood to be the telos of the life of women, this may not be so easily understood as being such for men. Vernant’s47 famous opinion that

‘marriage is for the girl what warfare is for the boy’ would certainly make the last statement seem somewhat improbable. After all, it is evident whygamos would be the

42 Zaidman and Pantel (1992) 68, 71-2, Rehm (1994) 32. 43 Woodbury (1982) 252-3, 255, and fn.23 on p. 252. See p.52. 44 See my discussion in ch. 4, pp. 225-8. 45 Zaidman and Pantel (1992) 71-2, cf. Ormand (1999) 18-9. 46 Avagianou (1991) 31-3 and fns. 27-30, Zaidman and Pantel (1992) 71-2. As Avagianou mentions, the model case of Zeus and Hera is slightly different from the humans in that Zeus transmits the perfect status he already has to Hera, whereas Hera is the passive receiver of this perfect status. In other words Zeus is already perfect, he does not need gamos, but Hera does. It is in this sense that Avagianou treatsgamos as an active telos for Zeus and a passive one for Hera. On Zeus teleios, specifically as a god of marriage, see Avagianou (1991) 31-3 and most recently Seaford (2012) 147 with fn.39 and also p.148. The text for Photius follows Naber (1864-5), but the punctuation is mine. The text from Pausanias is cited after Rocha-Pereira (1990). 47 Vernant and Vidal-Naquet (1988) 99.

22 telos of women, who were to a certain degree restricted with respect to their activities, movements and authority, so that this was the only thing that made a full adult of them

(to the limited degree that a woman was ever entirely an adult in Greek culture). But since men had a range of social activities and functions it is not so clear whygamos should carry such important connotations of fulfilment.48

Nevertheless, the significance of gamos as telos for men is supported by archaeological evidence.49 Though it takes different forms, the evidence where missedgamos was lamented is balanced for males and for females. The vital importance ofgamos had as a result that death before marriage heightened the grief for young girls and boys who died early. Vases and epigrams for both unmarried males and females at their gravestest at the validity of this claim for both sexes.50 Though it is true that there seem to be more funeral epigrams lamenting the lost gamos for the maidens rather than for the unmarried boys,51 it is also true that there are far more wedding vases on the graves of boys than on those of girls: these vases through their shape hint at the missedgamos of the deceased, support the argument that missedgamos was equally lamented for boys and girls, and confirm the importance of marriage astelos for both sexes.52 Demosthenes attests the

48 Cf. Rehm (1994) 32, Swift (2010) 249-50. 49 Rehm (1994) 32. 50 The most famous example in this category is the Phrasikleia epigram: σε̑μα Φρασικλείας· κόρε κεκλέσομαι αἰεί, / ἀντὶ γάμο παρὰ θεο̑ν τοῦτο λαχο̑σ’ ὄνομα (IG I³ 1261). 51 Lattimore (1942) 192-4 and 193 fn.156. 52 Rehm (1994) 27, 31, 32, 164 fn.70, 1656- fn.14 and for the archaeological primary material evidence see Kokula (1984) 182-3 and Boardman (1988) 175, 179. Finally there is an issue about the analogy of male-female population. Pomeroy (1997) 1201- concluded that there can be no certainty of the male- female analogy.

23 placement of λουτροφόροι on the tombs of the unmarried boys (Dem. 44.18, 44.30).

Harpocration s.v. λουτροφόρος interestingly presents the male aspect of λουτροφορία before marriage, not referring to women at all.53 Literature itself offers a number of examples of lamentation for missedgamos for males or the degreeto which lack of marriage was adeficiency for the person in question: Astyanax Trojan in Women

(Eur.Tro. 1167-70), Hippolytus (Hipp. 1131-52) in the homonymous play and the killed sons of Heracles inHeracles (Her. 476-9, 481-4).54 It is also supported by the makarismos in the Sapphic epithalamion where the groom’s blessedness and his good fortune on the occasion of his marriage is an emphatic presence.55 Therefore it is clear that the importance of marriage for males is underplayed in ideology and underestimated in the scholarship.56

Indeed, although there was no state pressure,as there was in Sparta, on citizens to marry,57 gamos as the keeping of anoikos was crucial for men as well, and for their oikos.58 As for ancient Greeks an important part of one’s life was to preserve theoikos ,

53 Harpocration s.v. loutrophoros: Λουτροφόρος καὶ λουτροφορεῖν· ἔθος ἦν τοῖς γαμοῦσι λουτρὰ μεταπέμπεσθαι ἑαυτοῖς κατὰ τὴν τοῦ γάμου ἡμέραν, ἔπεμπον δ’ ἐπὶ ταῦτα τὸν ἐγγύτατα γένους παῖδα ἄρρενα, καὶ οὗτοι ἐλουτροφόρουν. ἔθος δὲ ἦν καὶ τῶν ἀγάμων ἀποθανόντων λουτροφόρ<ον φέρ >ειν καὶ ἐπὶ τὸ μνῆμα ἐφίστασθαι· τοῦτο δὲ ἦν παῖς ὑδρίαν ἔχων. λέγει περὶ τούτων Δείναρχος ἔν τε τῷ κατὰ Θεοδότου καὶ ἐν τῇ Κατὰ Καλλισθένους <εἰσ>αγγελίᾳ. ὅτι δὲ τὰ λουτρὰ ἐκόμιζον ἐκ τῆς νῦν μὲν Ἐννεακρούνου καλουμένης κρήνης, πρότερον δὲ Καλλιρρόης, Φιλοστέφανος ἐν τῷ περὶ κρηνῶν φησί. μέμνηνται δὲ τοῦ ἔθους οἱ κωμικοί. (The text is based on Badino (2010).) 54 Cf. on the issue Rehm (1994) 32 with a special emphasis on the sons of Heracles. 55 Swift (2010) 245-6. On makarismos, see above p.19. 56 Cf. Swift (2010) 249-50. 57 For instance MacDowell (1978) 86. MacDowell acknowledges the existence of some references to penalties or restrictions to Athenian citizens who did not choose to marry but presents references to primary material which show that it is highly debatable whether these were ever put in force, for example Dem. 44.10, ὁ Ἀρχιάδης οὐκ ἔφη προαιρεῖσθαι γαμεῖν. 58 Rehm (1994) 18, esp.32 with 159-60 fn.34 with reference to Patterson (1991) 59; cf. Patterson (1991) 61 and more recently Swift (2010) 249. Failure to havean oikos of your own was very important (Rehm (1994) 32, 165-6 fn.14-5).

24 its cults and its property, marriage was of critical importance.Gamos was a transition for men in that it signalled the assumption of their responsibilities as citizens of the polis and their role as head of theoikos .59 Moreover, there were rituals of transition which formed part of the wedding ritual for men as well. In the framework of the Apatouria, there are three sacrifices focusing on the three main male transitions in the life of a man: birth, adolescence, and marriage; these three transitions were subject to validation on behalf of his phratry.60 In sum, the completion that marriage brings is due to its role as a condition by which a person has become a full adult and is placed in a position to reproduce and therefore to ensure the continuation of oikos his , not to mention the keeping of the family property inside oikos the and the continuation of cult and offerings.61

3. Previous scholarship on marriage and its contexts

a. Historical works

Though, as will become clear, my approach to marriage in Greek literature is distinctive, it builds on a substantial body of recent work. In the field of marriage excellent work has been done from the socio-historical aspect. Gould (1980), Just (1989), Lacey (1968) and Patterson (1998) in their more general studies about family and women have provided insights into the social significance of marriage with regard to theoikos and the polis. More exclusively dedicated to marriage, its procedures and the frame of

59 Swift (2006) 130. 60 Cole (1984) 233-4. 61 Lacey (1968) 16, Raepsaet (1971) 94-9, 109, Rehm (1994) 21, 160 fn. 41.

25 concepts which formulated the core of the institution of marriage are Reinsberg (1989),

Hartmann (2002) and Vérilhac and Vial1998 ( ). From the iconographical and archaeological aspect, Oakley and Sinos 1993 ( ) give an excellent presentation of the ritual of wedding in Athens making use of the archaeological material. Finally, for the cultural context of marriage the work of Avagianou 1991( ) on sacred marriage hieros( gamos) is very useful, despite its specific focus. It supplements all the other works dedicated to marriage with the extremely important notion of fulfilment that marriage was believed to generate both for men and women. Taken together, the exhaustive work done in the socio-historical field supplies the modern scholar with the necessary updated information on marriage as well as on its social and cultural importance. The latter is crucial for my work because it gives valuable insight into the motivations and implications of its use and allows one to determine with greater confidence the likely readings of and reactions to its literary use within its original cultural context.

b. Literature

In the field of literature there has been some work done on marriage specifically, but the precedents of my research are not only these specific works, but also those which explore marriage in the framework of gender studies. The reason is that within a society in which marriage is the (only) assumed and desired goal of womenit is almost impossible to explore the subject of marriage without also looking at the larger issue of the female in general. Since my emphasis is on marriage more generally ratherthan on female experience I will try as far as possible to separate these out.

This scholarship is to a large extent focused on drama.Discussion of marriage in other genres has perhaps unsurprisingly been far more limited. To begin with, in epic there is a broad categorization, as we will see for tragedy, between the socio-political interest and the literary interest. There are works on ‘Homeric’ society, which deal with women and marriage among other issues. The classic and most prominent works in this field are

Finley’s book (1956) and Snodgrass’s (1971). There are three books related to gender studies on Homer. The representation of the female in Homeric epic is treated in Cohen

(1995). The other two Doherty ( (1995) and Minchin (2007)) offer an insight into the women in epic. Doherty’s bookestablishes the fact that, although there is room for female action in epic, its influence is actually undercut by and ultimately reinforces male authority.62 Minchin’s book is engaged with illustration of women, female speech, representation and characterization in Homer. Both works are potentially useful for the exploration of marriage, although they are not directly interested in it. Attention has also been focused on separate female figures in Homer. The female who has attracted the most consideration (apart from Helen) is Penelope, with (inevitably) some discussion of the nature of her marriage and her role in it, both from a sociological perspective and in terms of plot and character. Relevant works include Katz (1991), Felson-Rubin (1994),

Clayton (2004) and Heitman (2005).

Research on marriage in drama can be divided into three categories. Firstly, there has been an exhaustive discussion on one specific aspect of marriage, namely exchange; the focus has been specifically on the use of women as subjects of tragic action who challenge male authority and whether ultimately they are doomed only to be objects

62 Doherty (1995) 22-3. 27 confirming contemporary androcentric ideology. This discussion began with Rabinowitz

(1993). Rabinowitz represents the most extreme position on this issue, despite her express intention not to adopt a fundamentally feminist perspective (pp. ix-x). She starts from the position that tragedy is engaged with civic ideologyand that as part of this social system ‘tragic gamos’ is used to explore it (1ff.). She then argues that all efforts of women to act as subjects manage only to confirm male authority, although she acknowledges that possibly women had a certain power in domestic the field (7); basically for Rabinowitz tragedy suggests that resistance to the dominant system is possible, although tragedy ultimately confirms both the role of women as objects of exchange and male homosociality, as well as the prevailing social order (12, esp. 21ff.); female resistance to the system is bound to fail -2). (21 Women are only fetishized objects (24).

Although Rabinowitz offers useful insights, the picture which emerges subsumes too many diverse works under a single interpretative model. The response to Rabinowitz was often critical, and it was felt (not unreasonably) that her approach was oversimplifying. More sympathetic was Wohl, who again offered an interpretation of tragic marriage from a feminist perspective inWohl (1998). In an extremely thorough study Wohl establishes the frequency of exchange of women in tragedy (p. xiv), and again argues for the confirmation of male authority and the position of women as objects of exchange (p. xvii), although tragedy questions both of them (p. xvii). For Wohl however tragedy does not seek to ‘[become] an instrument of oppression’, and she is open to many readings which are excluded by the monolithic approach of Rabinowitz

(p. xx). According to Wohl, the female point of view and reactionattempt and to

28 function as subject are explored in tragedy (p. xxi), ‘tragic exchange ... is generative, not merely repressive’ (p. xx). She argues that ‘[t]he exchange of women is ... a nodal point of hegemonic negotiation in tragedy’ (p. xxii) and is indeed used to contest Athenian ideology, engaged as it is in a creative exploration of this ideology (p. xxiii-iv), both reproducing and challenging this system (p. xxxvii).

The issue of female subjectivity explored in these two works is successfully treated in the excellent study of Foley(Foley (2001)), where a whole chapter is dedicated to female acts relevant to marriage. To Foley female acts can be aberrant (7), but tragic women also make valid important decisions without their kyrios, independently of male authority (8, 335). She also argues persuasively that through women and marriage, domestic issues are used to explore public issues (14). Foley also focuses attention on whether female acts serve or challenge the dominant system (12). She argues that since tragedy is a civic institution and can ‘articulate the civic life, ideology, social and political roles, and distribution of power in democratic Athens’ (17); female voice and actions are used to add another perspective to the civic dialogue (18) dueheir to t different status (335). The prejudices against women and their capacity both for good and bad are to Foley a good way for tragedy to explore ‘tragic- division’ self (336).

Despite the fact that she recognizes that female action can be positive (10, 335), Foley still claims that it ‘both affirms the danger of allowing women to make choices.....and... reveals the dangers of not educating them to do so.’ (336).

These works, though useful for my purpose, focus more on female subjectivity. They do not deal with the use of marriage in literature more generally. This brings us to the

29 second category of scholarship on gender and marriage in tragedy. The first major work which explores marriage in Greek literature is Rehm (1994). Rehm researches the thematic use of this motif. His methodology is an important antecedent to the approach I will be using in my work here: he focuses on ‘the emotional effects of marriages and death in relation to other issues raised by the tragedies, following as far as possible the path of the play itself’ (10). In particular, he examines how the motif of marriage to death was used ‘to explore the political and social problems facing the city’ (136). In

Rehm’s view female actions open the potential for resistance to the dominant mentality and ideologies (137-9, esp. 137). Marriage was an important field for this challenge (8).

The reason is that, as he argues, this was a space where women had a crucial role and it was also central to their concerns - (89). Rehm’s work has implications for a slightly more prominent position of women in historical Athens than we were aware of (7), thus taking part in the discussion about female subjectivity.

Thirdly, a work which falls between Rehm’s book and the first three books I have mentioned above is Ormand (1999). Ormand has much in common with Rabinowitz and

Wohl, in that he sees marriage as an exchange. Yet, he does not focus exclusively on the aspect of exchange, as if this was just a kind of commercial exchange. He also takes into consideration the fact that a marriage arrangement is a link of kinship between two families and an intimate relationship between two people. The focus on marriage per se and not as a mere exchange associates this book with Rehm’s work. In particular,

Ormand examines marriage as an exchange of women in Sophocles and ‘the way that

Sophocles uses and represents these legal and social definitions in his dramas’ (2); he is also interested in how marriage is explored to generate questions regarding- male

30 dominated ideology (5). He argues that marriage is employed to present women in the paradoxical position of subject which then results in crisis, although women themselves are not to blame for this impasse (7).

Seaford has discussed marriage in tragedy from a varietyperspectives of in two important articles,63 as well as in his book Reciprocity and Ritual.64 His main position is that marriage is central to tragedy and there is a strong focus on perverted marriage. In particular, Seaford investigates the forms wedding ritual takes in tragedy, normally a

‘subverted’ one, and the perverted use of the symbols of wedding for dramatic effect, either in scenes of the deaths of women, virgins who lost their marriage or married women who fared badly regarding their marriage, or toillustrate perverted extramarital unions.65 He also discusses the way in which tragedy explores some of the tensions implicit in the transition from the natal to the maritaloikos through the prioritization of the one or the other, due to the conflicts between these two oikoi or even due to wrong balances inside the marital oikos itself.66

More specific to marriage is the scholarship on New Comedy. Lape(2004) examines marriage in Menander in the framework of civic ideology, gender and cultural values.

Lape researches the specific poetic use of marriage in its role as guarantor of the continuation and survival of the body of Athenian citizens and the role of New Comedy in questioning Athenian civic ideology and its failure to ‘democratize’ it further by

63 Seaford (1987), Seaford (1990b). Seaford also discusses the issue in Seaford (1986) and touches on it again in Seaford (1990a). 64 Seaford (1994). 65 Seaford (1987). 66 Seaford (1990b). 31 ultimately affirming it.67 Traill (2008) considers the use of ‘the mistaken identity plot’ and the way Menander has carefully created the progression of these plots.68 Among other issues, Traill discusses how Menander, through the motif of mistaken identity on the part of marginalized women, explores Athenian gender and marriage ideology in his plays; in her view he promotes the ideal of marital happiness, depriving marriage of the severe public and civic character it had in earlier literature, and possibly in earlier civic communities, viewing it as a matter for the individuals, and presenting it as a factor for their personal fulfilment.69

4. Aim of this thesis

What is apparent from the brief survey above, for all the insights offered to date, is the lack of a substantial study dedicated specifically to the poetic use of marriageper se.

This is the gap that my study seeks to fill. Marriage is ubiquitous in Greek literature.

The reason for this pervasiveness is not simply that marriage is a part of the historical context of the works studied:reative c literature, even in highly stylized forms, is selective in its reaction to its environment. Rather, marriage constitutes an enabling element for the writer. Marriage is important as a theme in its own right and many texts explore the relationships, tensions and behaviour patterns operative within marriage.

Moreover, because it is a building block of society, it can also be used as a kind of microcosm of thepolis to explore issues central to the civic community.70 More importantly, marriage comes loaded with cultural and ethical values; this means that it

67 Cf. Lape (2004) esp. 243-6, 252-3. 68 Traill (2008) 1-13. 69 Traill (2008) 245-68. 70 Rehm (1994) 136, Foley (2001) 14. 32 acquires a pronounced symbolic dimension in turn in such a way that it can become a powerfully expressive image. Finally, because of its transitional function it can also acquire a major structural role at the level of plot. All these indicate a strong, intrinsic potential for marriage as metaphor and image. For these reasons marriage constitutes a flexible medium of expression; it can be used in many different contexts and accordingly be adapted to a range of literary needs.

Given its importance and significance for the construction of meaning, researchinto the poetic use of marriage from a literary and notjust a sociological or political perspective has much to contribute to our understanding of the texts. Some of the value is straightforwardly historical; some of it is literary, in that it can enrich our reading of a range of poetic texts in different genres. My interests are less in exploring the representation of marriage, in defining marriage ideology, in extracting historical reality or in determining whether marriage is validated or subverted, than in exploring the imaginative use which poets make he of marriage t motif, whether literal or metaphorical. This thesis differs from other studies also in that it approaches the use of marriage from various directions in order to extract a more nuanced picture of the way in which marriage is exploited. A second, distinguishing feature is that it uses a multiplicity of genres and periods.

Naturally, and despite what was said above about the generic and chronological range of this study, not all texts, nor all examples or aspects of marriage, can be covered in a work on this scale. So, the subject matter of my research will be archaic and classical

Greek poetry; the chronological end of my research is Menander. Given the limitations

33 of scale it would be impossible to cover every instance even in one genre. Treatment must be selective and the criterion of my selection is the uses which are more prominent, sustained, illuminating and distinctive of and in each genre. These are the aspects that constitute the rich embedded role of gamos in Greek poetry and exemplify the imagistic, rhetorical and emotional value that madegamos a precious tool in the hands of the

Greek poets.

5. Material and methods

My approach to the reading of Greek poetry itself is strongly informed by the methods of the school of New Historicism, a rather ‘open-knit’71 school72 and a critical approach itself of remarkable complexity.73 This study follows New Historicism in the following respects. It is based on a recognition that literature reflects the cultural and historical framework in which it comes into being and in which it is embedded.74 Literature is in dialogue and interaction with its culturalsocial, and historical contexts and a reading which locates it in those contexts helps us to make a better understanding of the texts.75

Therefore, the history and culture of a given period and its value system (whether these are absorbed, adapted or contested) are of critical importance for the interpretation of its literature. Despite the fact that I do not aim to reconstruct a complete sociological, historical or cultural picture of marriage in archaic and classical Greek societies, my

71 See Gallagher and Greenblatt (2000) 2ff., cf. in contrast Veeser (1994). 72 Cf. Salkeld (2007) 69. 73 Veeser (1994) 2. 74 Veeser (1994) 2, cf. Bressler (1994), and especially Castle (2007) 131. 75 Greenblatt (1980) 3, cf. Brannigan (1998) 56-61 passim, esp. 61, Habib (2005) 761.

34 study does indeed have implications for a potential reconstruction of attitudes to and experience of marriage.

It is essential to note that in applying a New Historical approach I also take into account the pervasive element of anachronism in Greek tragedy and also the fact that Homeric society and its reflections in tragedy were not in any simple sense historical societies but rather amalgams, in the former of an archaic and a prearchaic- society, with (on any reconstruction) an element of creative imagination, in the latter of the Homeric world and the world of the classical period. Thus each text projects simultaneously at least two chronological and cultural strata, the past culture which forms the context of the plot, and the contemporary culture of the performance, of which it is the product.

In approaching my theme I vary the focus from chapter to chapter. In some instances I use case studies to typify the largertrends, in others (where feasible) I address all or nearly all the cases. In the process I explore aspects of the use of marriage in epic, epinician and drama from a range of perspectives and under a range of headings. I am interested both in the literal presence of marriage as a plot component, small or large, and in its presence as image. This choice allows us to build up a rounded, coherent, though inevitably selective, picture ofgamos in Greek literature. As noted above, although in one way or another the thesis touches on a variety of aspects of marriage, it does not claim to be a comprehensive treatment of the theme, which though desirable would be impossible within the space available.

Chapter 1 researches marriage as ritual, as image and as narrative motif in epinician and argues that Pindar capitalizes on the cultural semantics ofgamos as part of a rhetoric of praise which ensures a positive reception of the victor, the song and ultimately the genre.

Chapter 2 discusses the use of marriage as closural device in Greek drama. In tragedy this use is largely associated withdeus ex machinainterventions, principally in

Euripides, who regularly employed it in his conclusions. In this context there is often a weak association between marriage as closureand the plot it closes. The result is that marriage often gives a ‘pendant closure’76 in the framework of partial and often ironic resolutions. Though Euripides’ use frequently tends toward formalism, there is a subset of plays (represented byHelen , Alcestis) where gamos in the form of remarriage is organic and inevitable. In Sophocles, marriage is a structural part of the ending and ultimately operates as an oblique pointer toward a larger (intuited) divine perspective.

Though in Aristophanes marriage is never a plot theme, unlike Euripides’ remarriage plots, on those occasions where it occurs as a closural gesture, it effects a natural, although not inevitable, conclusion, in that it forms an organic part of the celebration of the hero and may also pick key up themes in the plot. In returning to this motif

Aristophanic comedy to some degree shares the formalist tendency of Euripides. I argue however that the use of gamos as closure in Aristophanes is organic at a deeper level, in reflecting, however remotely, the probable origin of comedy from phallic rituals. Gamos

76 By this term I mean an ending which leaves several issues of the play hanging, unanswered, and thus fails to provide a full, firm closure to the play; alternatively what I call a pendant closure can be described as an open ending. 36 as an archetypal social event also gives a communal aspect to the feast for the comic hero’s victory and thus expands the circle of celebration. Through a conflation of victory and wedding, marriage in its capacity as fulfilment for humans adds the dimension of fulfilment to the hero’s success. In the framework of the metatheatrical elements often found in the exodos of comedy, Aristophanic gamos communicates to the audience the message that the oet p should and will win in the comic competition. Yet there is a distinguishing feature of gamos in Aristophanic endings. They havean element of the hieros gamos, which makes them loaded with implications both of agrarian fertility and of socio-political continuity. This kind of marriage has strong connotations of cosmogony. Aristophanes ultimately employs them to shape myths of the creation of a new, utopian world.

In Menander, marriage as an ending is deeply integrated into the plot, becoming a fully organic telos. It emerges from a sudden revelation as resolutionand, a wedding feast seals the play celebrating the ‘hero’’s77 success in winning his bride. Yet, as in tragedy, marriage is used to explore other issues, such as human characters and behaviour.

Chapter 3 deals with the motif of missedgamos in tragedy, which is used to generate and enhance pathos. In addition, due to the cultural significance of marriage, this motif is effectively employed to articulate themes of the plays, priorities, choice, and loss to the individual, the oikos, and the polis. In its metaphorical dimension, the language of missed marriage highlights distortion and perversion in human behaviour.

77 On this term see p. 143, fn. 549 37

In chapter 4 I argue that perverted marriage in Aeschylean tragedy forms part of a network of oikos and polis in crisis and expresses aspects of this malfunction. Inthis context flawed marriage is the ideal device to explore disruptions in civic life. It is also used to explore larger issues of the play such as loyalties, victimhood, violence, revenge and last but not least marriage in its own right.

Finally chapter 5 seeks to distil the ways in which good, successful or happy marriage is illustrated through its absence both in epic in and drama. In common with most

European literature, Greek literature offers no narrative of successful marriage in real time, that is within the fictive present of the epic or tragic plot. Its image is contained in narratives at the shadow of a forthcoming separation, or in laments and reminiscences of past happiness.

Chapter 1: Gamos and Victory in the Pindaric Epinician

1. Introduction

The use of marriage in a genre such asthe victory ode, which is destined to praise a victor in athletic games, is at first sight paradoxical to anyone unfamiliar with Pindar.

Marriage has at best a tangential relevance to athletics and therefore its presence in a genre praising athletic victory may seem unexpected. Nevertheless, marriage has an important role in Pindar’s epinician odes and is part of the rich Pindaric network of imagery. And yet, although the erotic cast of the Pindaric epinician has long been recognized,78 there has been no systematic study of the role of gamos in his work.

In this chapter I discuss how Pindar images victory through gamos. In the odes ambition is symbolized by eros, the winning of the victory is visualized as the winning of the bride through hard ponos, the passage to the status of victor as the passage to new status after a marriage, the celebration of the victory as the celebration of the wedding. Pindar uses the wedding celebration and its associations to ask for the acknowledgement of the victory by the polis and to ease the re-integration of the victor into his community with the kleos and new social standing that his victory has bestowed on him. The need for the motif reflects the fact that Greek society was highly competitive and the envy and hostility of the victor’s fellow-citizens was (from the Greek perspective) an inevitable side effect of victory. And praise-song, desirable as it is for the victor and his family,

78 For instance, Crotty (1982) pp. x, 83, Steiner (1998) 49, 123 Hubbard- (2002) 264, fn.25, and particularly Scanlon (2002). 39 may enhance this hostile reaction, as well as the conspicuous consumption of money for the personal display of the winner. Finally I will argue thatgamos also helps to achieve the victor’s transition to his new status, and secure the immortality of his kleos, since the victor is depicted as bringingkleos to his oikos and to his polis as well. But first and foremost the gamos metaphor belongs to Pindar’s image vocabulary and this is where I begin.

One of the features which most distinguishes Pindar within the archaic lyric tradition is the remarkable density of his imagery.79 Pindar not only uses a high frequency of images in a short space80 but he also tends to juxtapose them, shifting rapidly from the one metaphor or image to the other.81 Metaphor has the capacity by creating impressions to express thoughts and make allusions in an implicit and economical way.82 It uses everyday experiences to visualize ideas and perceptions in terms of a concept more familiar to us.83 This means that abstract ideas become more concrete andclearer .84

Moreover, metaphor has the capacity to create connections.85 This in turn gives prominence to the notions which are important for the poet’s purposes.86 In the case of

Pindar, this kind of representation focuses the attention of the audience on those specific aspects of the victory that matterfor the praise task and are of interest to the poet.87

79 Cf. Silk (2007) 184, Hutchinson (2012) 277. On Pindar’s metaphor-systems, see Nünlist (1998) and most recently Patten (2009) and Lattmann (2010). 80 Dornseiff (1921) 67. 81 Dornseiff (1921) 678,- Péron (1974) 339. Péron attributes this apposition to theact f that there are ‘analogies which can be expressed only through metaphor.’ 82 Péron (1974) 339, Nisetich (1980) 43, Steiner (1986) 23, 27. See Steiner (1986) on the effects of the use of the metaphor. 83 Lakoff and Johnson (1980) 5, 10-13. 84 Lakoff and Johnson (1980) 5. 85 Lakoff and Johnson (1980) 97-8. 86 Lakoff and Johnson (1980) 97-8, 193. 87 Lakoff and Johnson (1980) 10, especially 152ff. 40

Pindar’s images are drawn from areas of life familiar to many, if not most, of the audience. This made the connotations Pindar wanted to create readily accessible.88

According to one influential school of metaphor theory, metaphor is not simply a feature of style but a way of organizing the world of experience. Irrespective of any larger applicability, this approach to metaphor certainly seems relevant to the dense Pindaric use of imagery. Pindar creates distinctive metaphors through which he encourages us to visualize the victory and its celebration. Thus, he creates a new understanding of the experience of the victory.89 A new sense of reality is created, the aim of which is to change the perceptions of the audience and promote responses in accordance with these new perceptions.90 Ultimately it is about the refinement of the conceptual system created by the culture.91

Pindar’s metaphors are not just a collection of individual images.92 They are drawn from a very restricted recurrent set of source domains.93 These are nature, plants, animals, water, the sea or even the craftsmanship of building, wrestling and images of other athletic contests.94 Pindar’s images are basically limited to a relatively small number of recurrent, mutually responsive, metaphors which form a coherent network.95 The result is a system of large metaphor groupings which is never encountered at any point in the

88 Péron (1974) 16, 336-7, cf. Silk (2007) 179, Lakoff and Turner (1989) 109. 89 Cf. Lakoff and Johnson (1980) 139. 90 Lakoff and Johnson (1980) 145. 91 Lakoff and Johnson (1980) 1456,- cf. Lloyd-Jones (1982) 139, 162, who speaks about ‘a distinctive vision of the world’ created by Pindar’s poetry. 92 Péron (1974) 333-4. 93 Péron (1974) 333, 337. 94 See Péron (1974), Steiner (1986), and the old but still valuable study of Dornseiff (1921) 54ff. 95 Péron (1974) 333-4, Lakoff and Johnson (1980) 157; cf. Lattmann (2010) 314. 41 corpus in its entirety; it remains fragmentary in form as experienced at the level of the individual ode but is at the same time remarkably coherent and highly organized when viewed across the corpus.96 This system, coherent and fragmented at once, fulfils specific poetic aims. On the one hand, the fragmentation of the system across the corpus allows for different aspects of any given metaphor to be used for different purposes according to context. Thusthemes and issues are explored from diverse angles; this produces complex effects. On the other hand, the coherence of this system effects the successful articulation of the key themes of Pindar’s odes. Hence, the synoptic exploration of the images in the appropriate systems is the only way through which it is possible to gain an insight into Pindar’s imaginative world and main ideas in their entirety97 and ultimately get a full sense of Pindar’s art.98 For an author whose work was encountered during his lifetime through performance and not (or at least not primarily) through the written word,99 this raises fascinating questions about the perception of the corpus as a whole which cannot be addressed here. But the fact remains that whether or not it was ever perceived as a single entity, this system through its diverse imagery offers a remarkably coherent worldview.

My interest here however is not the system as a whole but one image group in particular which is employed to illustrate victory, namely marriage. The association we find in

Pindar between gamos and athletic success was evidently not a feature of the victory ode as a genre, since we appear not to find itn ieither of his two great rivals, Bacchylides

96 Péron (1974) 334-5 with a special reference to nature, the source domain of eth maritime imagery he investigates; cf. Lattmann (2010) 314. 97 Dornseiff (1921) 54, cf. Péron (1974) 15, 336-7. 98 Steiner (1986) 27. 99 Cf. Currie (2004) 49-54, Morrison (2007) 7, 41-79, Carey (2007) 199-209; for a written transmission of the odes see Hubbard (2004) 71-91. 42 and Simonides.100 Nor was it either inevitable or obvious, since it is only exploited by

Pindar. Yet, gamos is a recurring image in Pindar, appearing in one in every three odes.101

It is not suggested here that ndar Pi is in any respect interested in marriage itself; his approach is opportunistic, though coherently opportunistic. There is no attempt to represent marriage in all its aspects; what is at issue is rather a stylized but consistent image of marriage which can be constructedthrough the pictures drawn from the marriage imagery domain. Thus only those aspects ofgamos are highlighted which are compatible with the image and concepts of victory which Pindar wants to promote.

To create his analogies Pindar presented his audience with a fictionalized form of gamos, an amalgam of the real marriage, as experienced by his contemporaries, and heroic prototypes from the world of myth. In this, as in other aspects of his celebration of victory, he places his victorious athletes in an idealized world which while locating them in historical time connects them with the values and experiences of the major figures of the heroic age.102 For instance, in place of the engye, the first stage of ancient gamos probably across most of the Greek world, he uses the winning of the bride, a phenomenon common only in myths.

100 The erotic aspect of archaic praise poetry seems by and large to have been rather homo - than heteroerotic (cf. Stehle (2009) 61-2). 101 He uses this image group in 15 at least out of his 46 epinician odes (Olympians: 1, 7, 9, Pythians: 2, 3, 4, 9, 11, Nemeans: 1, 3, 4, 5, Isthmians: 4, 6, 8). 102 Nagy (1990), 199-214, Currie (2005) 406-414, but esp. 59, 205-414; cf. Mackie (2003) 95-6. 43

This treatment ofgamos is possible because what Pindar ultimately uses in this metaphor are the connotations aroused by the image and not the precise affinities between gamos and victory. This is also evident in the fact that there is no precise narrative coincidence between the stages of gamos and the stages of victory, particularly in regard to the celebration. In weddings the reception of thepair at their newoikos , which was actually the groom’s ownoikos , took place after the celebration, unlikethe reception of the victor into his polis, which happens before the victory celebration. It is the elements and the associations rather than the ecisepr sequence which make gamos useful.103

I turn now to the specifics of the use of thegamos metaphor of victory. A fundamental element shared by the two fields of this metaphor, the source domain and the domain of the tenor, is ritual. This is clear in the casethe ofwedding with its sacrifices, purification baths, the symbolism of the procession and its cultural role as a rite of passage.104 In the case of the victory the ritual aspect, though different, is equally clear.

These games were known as the ‘holy games’.105 Indeed, not only are the games an aspect of cult but the victory odes have a religious-cultic element in the form of prayers,

103 Cf. Steiner (1986) 21. 104 See Oakley and Sinos (1993) especially 3-37. 105 Anth.Pal.IX.357 (anonymi epigrammatici): τέσσαρές εἰσιν ἀγῶνες ἀν’ Ἑλλάδα, τέσσαρες ἱροί,/ οἱ δύο μὲν θνητῶν, οἱ δύο δ’ ἀθανάτων·/ Ζηνός, Λητοΐδαο, Παλαίμονος, Ἀρχεμόροιο. /ἆθλα δὲ τῶν κότινος, μῆλα, σέλινα, πίτυς. (The text is cited after Waltz (1957).) In other words the sacred games for Greeks were the Olympian, the Pythian, the Isthmian and the Nemean games. Pindar also characterizes them under the name hieroi aethloi: O.8.64, O.13.15. Cf. Race (1986) 19; for the ritualistic and cultic aspect of the games see Burkert (1985) 106-7, Raschke (1988); cf. Valavanis (2004). 44 thanks to the gods, praise of the gods of games and city and sacrifices.106 This common cult dimension facilitates the transference between the two domains.

As is the case in Pindar’s other metaphors, the Pindaricgamos metaphor of victory is not a single image but a composite subset of metaphors, concepts and associations which evokes the experience behind, on which its constituents are based and shows it in its full coherence.107 It helps to articulate the shared value system against which victory is evaluated, namely athletic ideology, and also the association of the victor with the hero, which existed already from the victory song attributed to Archilochus and is referred to by Pindar atO .9.1-2.108 Gamos and its ritual were particularly useful for

Pindar in the generation of this metaphor, in that ‘the part-whole structure’ of the gamos metaphor allows the image of the victory ‘to be mapped onto’ it on the basis ‘of their common structure’.109 Thus, all the knowledge related to the ritual ofgamos as rite of passage is transmitted to the metaphor of victory as a rite of passage.110 What Pindar does is that he takes these existing cultural associations and concepts, combines them into a system, invokes the audience’s cultural knowledge and manipulates it. He then extends this system and deploys it in ways convenient to his presentation of victory.111

106 Cf. for instance Burkert (1985) 106, Young (2004) 12-16, 52-66, especially 52-54, Fisher (2009) 527- 9. 107 Cf. Lakoff and Turner (1989) 89. 108 The Archilochus victory song went like this:τήνελλα καλλίνικε .... χαῖρε ἄναξ Ἡράκλεις,/ αὐτός τε καἰόλαος, αἰχμητὰ δύο (fr. 324 West). On this song, see Gerber (2002) 21-3, cf. Pelliccia (2009) 255-6. 109 Cf. Lakoff and Turner (1989) 90. 110 Cf. Lakoff and Turner (1989) 92. In this case, of course, some of the ideas underlying the metaphor of victory as passage were already part of the conceptual landscape of the ancient Greeks. What Pindar does is promote this concept further by the association of victoryith w the rite of passagepar excellence, namely gamos. 111 Cf. Lakoff and Turner (1989) 51-3. 45

Before proceeding to the consideration of gamos as an image for victory it is important to see how Pindar treats victory, the vehicle in his metaphor, in order to understand how he associated victory with marriage and why marriage was a convenient, or even ideal, tool for Pindar in the representation of victory in his praise task.

Victory in Pindar’s odes is conceptualized112 from the correlation of certain themes113 and may in very rough outline be given as follows. It is the product of great labour

(ponos)114 undergone by a person of excellent natural abilitiesphya ( )115, assisted by a god’s favour theos ( ).116 The expenditure dapana ( ) of ploutos117 is essential to this process of ponos (I.1.41-51).118 The victory in itself is a splendid achievement

(aglaia)119. As such it can cause phthonos (envy, jealousy) both from men and gods.120

Nonetheless, it creates fame kleos( ) for the victor, hisoikos and polis.121 This kleos in itself cannot last, nor can it ‘travel’ without the medium of words which can keep it alive in people’s memory.122 It is here that poetry hymnos ( ) supervenes123, celebrates

112 Willcock (1995) 15-9, Race (1997a) 3-4. For the notions ofponos , reward, kleos and the role of the public celebrations see Schadewaldt (1928) especially 266-91, Carey (1995a) 88-92, Nisetich (1980) 41-7 and Young (1968) 61ff., 66ff., 734,- 101 on the immortalkleos that poetry generates. There are other important themes as koros, kairos, metron, chrysos, philia which, however, are not so important for the definition of victory. On these see for instance Race (1997a) 4 and Willcock (1995) 17-9. 113 Cf. Lattmann (2010) 59. 114 O.11.4, I.3.17b, N.4.1-2; cf. Thummer (1968-9) II.22-3, II.34-5, Gerber (1982) ad 81. 115 O.9.100-2, O.11.19-20, I.3.13-4; cf. Schadewaldt (1928) 298, Bundy (1986) 3 fn.11, 16-7, 30-1. 116 O.1.106-8, O.11.10, I.3.4, O.7.87-90; cf. Bundy (1986) 30-31. 117 O.2.53-6; cf. I.1.67-8, I.4.29, I.3.2, I.3.17b, P.5.1. 118 Kurke (1991) 98, 235-8, Bundy (1986) 83-4, 86-90. 119 O.9.98-9, O.13.13-6, P.6.44-6, I.2.18; cf. Thummer (1968-9) II ad 2.18. 120 From men: N.4.36-43, O.2.95-8; from gods: I.7.39, I.7.43-4, I.4.11-3, N.4.69; cf. Schadewaldt (1928) 278, fn.1, 288, Thummer (1968-9) I. 80-1, Bundy (1986) 40, 56 fn.51, 60-61, 63-4. 121 O.8.10, O.10.95-6, N.7.63, I.5.7-8. For instance Bundy (1986) 52, 60, 60 fn.63, 61, 64 fn.75, 65-6, 83- 4, 87-90. 122 Cf. Morgan (1993) 10. Cf. p.80. 123 I.3.7, I.4.3, N.4.2-5, O.11.4-6, I.7.16-9, I.4.40-2, N.4.6, N.4.83-5, O.2.89; cf. Schadewaldt (1928) 277 n.1, 278 fn.1, 298ff., Thummer (1968-9) I. 95. 46 this kleos and makes it immortal through the charming effects (charis)124 of the poet’s skills (sophia)125. It also extends the fame in space. Finally, the skills which realizedthe achievement constitute the victor’s areta.126

I will argue that the Pindaric hybrid ofgamos is collocated with and interacts with all the notions described above which are attached to the victory,127 namely with the sequence ambition, ponos, success, transition to a new status,telos , integration into the community and immortal kleos and complete fulfilment of the transition. The bride was the object of ambition and won after ponos. Both the groom and the bride were making their passage to a new status. This success and this new status were validated through the public celebration and especially through song. This iscarried over to the victory and underlines its most important aspects.

Finally, a point about method. I have been speaking throughout of metaphor. But the gamos motif in Pindar takes the form not only of metaphor and simile but also of the major figuring device of mythic narrative.128 All these converge to form a coherent image of victory which I have subsumed for convenience under the term ‘metaphor’. So, in this framework I will pay close attention to the role ofgamos in myth. Myth is used from the earliest period as a way of exploring contemporary experience and thus forms part of the image system whereby Pindar organizes his world. As a means of generating

124 O.7.11, I.3.8, I.4.72b, N.4.7; cf. Schadewaldt (1928) 277f., 287 fn.5. 125 Thummer (1968-9) I. 95 fn.77, II. 42, Bundy (1986) 69 fn. 83, 71 fn.91. 126 O.11.6, N.4.41; cf. Thummer (1968-9) II ad 3/4.4f., Willcock (1995) 18, Bundy (1986) 82ff. 127 For the idea that metaphor expresses the association of victory with all the key notions of Pindaric poetry, see Lattmann (2010) 59-60. 128 Cf. Nünlist (1998) 3478,- Lattmann (2010) 270, 314. For a case for metaphor as part of a larger expression system, see Lattmann (2010) 49, 52-3; Lattmann explains this in terms of Peirce’s theory of metaphor (Lattmann (2012) 550-1). 47 parallels and contrasts with and implicit comments on the contemporary world of its audience, it has natural affinities with metaphor, despite the many differences. Before I proceed to the specifics of the interplay betweengamos imagery and victory, I will firstly discuss an essential correspondence between marriage and victory which facilitated the correlation between them, their shared role telos as , as fulfilment of ambition and potential.

2. Marriage as telos129

As was noted above, gamos and athletics share a ritual dimension,130 as suggested by the adjective that characterizes them as sacred, ἱεροί.131 The games are celebrated in honour of gods (though historically they may have their origin in funeral games). As such the competitions individually and collectively are (like other forms of competition in the

Greek world, such as Athenian drama) a charis offered by mortals to gods as a means of honouring and propitiating.132 It has been suggested plausibly that one aspect of the ritual character of the games may have been an initiation into adulthood.133 This probably gave the games their teleological character.

This teleological aspect is very important for gamos the metaphor of the victory.

Victory is a telos for the athlete. The athlete has achieved something spectacular which

129 Woodbury (1982) 253, 255; cf. Ormand (1999) 18. 130 On the ritual aspect of the athletic games, see Nagy (1990) 136-45. 131 Nagy (1990) 137. See p.44 fn. 105. 132 Some scholars see the athletes’ efforts themselves as a ritual reenactment- of the heroic ordeals and consequent death; and therefore the song for thepraise of the athletic victory as a compensation (evenif not entirely) for the heroic death (Burkert (1985) 105107,- Kennedy (1989) 1213- and fn.40 on p.13; Nagy (1990) 136-45). 133 Burkert (1985) 105-107. 48 is limit-defining. All the efforts of the athlete have a meaning once he wins in an athletic competition.134 Failure, by contrast, especially after such ponos and expenditure, in such a competitive society, meant lack of this fulfilment and shame (cf. P.9.92).135 Although there is no instance where Pindar explicitly says that victory is the fulfilment of the athlete, or a telos in itself, this notion is traceable in Pindar’s epinicians. Moreover, victory, apart from being a target, also provided the athlete with a new social status and financial privileges or political potential, as we shall see below.136

Crucially, the idea that the athlete has reached the limit of human success,eudaimonia , is clearly expressed repeatedly in Pindar. At P.1.99-100 he says:

τὸ δὲ παθεῖν εὖ πρῶτον ἀέθλων· εὖ δ’ ἀκούειν δευτέρα

μοῖρ’· ἀμφοτέροισι δ’ ἀνήρ

ὃς ἂν ἐγκύρσῃ καὶ ἕλῃ, στέφανον ὕψιστον δέδεκται.

εἰ γάρ τις ἀνθρώπων δαπάνᾳ τε χαρείς

καὶ πόνῳ πράσσει θεοδμάτους ἀρετάς

σύν τέ οἱ δαίμων φυτεύει δόξαν ἐπήρατον, ἐσχατιαῖς ἤδη

πρὸς ὄλβου

βάλλετ’ ἄγκυραν θεότιμος ἐών (I.6.10-3).

134 Cf. Carson (1982) 127: ‘solitary excellence [is] a doomed, wild, sterile thing’. See also Carson (1982) 121, 125-8 on the parallel. 135 See p. 66. Victory is a compensation for the investment of time and effort and the taking of risks and this accentuates one’s sense of victory as telos (see pp. 62-4). 136 See pp. 64-6. 49

νέᾳ δ’ εὐπραγίᾳ χαίρω τι· τὸ δ’ ἄχνυμαι,

φθόνον ἀμειβόμενον τὰ καλὰ ἔργα. φαντί γε μάν

οὕτω κ’ ἀνδρὶ παρμονίμαν

θάλλοισαν εὐδαιμονίαν τὰ καὶ τὰ φέρεσθαι (P.7.18-21).

The bliss of victory137 is repeatedly illustrated in Pindar: O.5-23-4, P.10.22-9, P.11.55-

8, N.3.19-21, N.9.46-7, N.11.13-6, I.5.12-5. Pindar himself at one point says that victory gives the athlete calm for the rest of his lifeO .1.98,( cf. N.4.1-2, N.9.44-5). Since he pointedly adds ‘as far as athletics are concerned’ (O.1.99), he evidently does not have in mind a life of uninterrupted success, which anyway would run counter to the Pindaric rhetoric of vicissitude as a dominant feature of human life.138 More probably it indicates that glory, the kudos, which results from the victory.139

Related to this aspect of victory is its presentation by Pindar as atelos . In Nemean 3, by presenting Heracles (N.3.22ff.) as the archetypal toiler and as such the model for the contemporary athlete and the victor himself, Pindar assimilates the victory to Heracles’

νόστου τέλος (N.3.25). Victory is often likened to reaching the pillars of Heracles

(O.3.43-45, N.3.20-23, I.4.11-12).140 The athletic success is then a pinnacle, a furthest limit, a telos.141

137 The issue has been thoroughly discussed by Thummer (1968-9) 66-81. 138 See below, pp. 59-61. 139 Instone (1996) ad O.1.97-8, Gerber (1982) ad O.1.98. 140 See Nieto-Hernandez (1993) 77, 86; cf. Patten (2009) 212-3. 141 See Nieto-Hernandez (1993) 86; cf. Patten (2009) 212-3. 50

So, victory is a culminating moment (telos), as was gamos.142 Ancient Greek gamos, as we noted in the Introduction, directs the wed pair towards a perfect status both in individual development and in social function.143 In the framework of Pindar’sgamos metaphor these cultural semantics of gamos are employed to show that victory fulfils the existence of the athlete as gamos fulfils the existence of the wedded couple.

This aspect is amply reflected in Pindar’s epinicians, which exploit extensively the idea of gamos as the telos both for men and for women. The gamos with Thetis was the telos for Peleus, the parallelto the victor N. ( 3.70, cf. 35-6).144 This notion is still more prominent in the case of Cyrene, whose marriage to Apollo is also defined as τελευτά

(P.9.66). Cyrene in P.9 for all her excellence at hunting did not fulfil her social role in the community. Bold, independent, even heroic, as she is, there is a sense thatshe is incomplete in Greek terms. She is a virgin, away from her home P.( 9.18-9) and outside the polis. Her telos is realized only when she is brought into a recognized role as bride

(P.9.51ff.). In this case gamos gave her much more than was expected for a woman in ordinary life. She founded and ruled over a wonderful city and bore a child to a god

(P.9.56a-65, P.9.69-70). The exhibition of her life as wife and mother as her real fulfilment contribute to the idea f o human telos and fulfilment through marriage (cf.

P.9.44).145

142 For a different treatment of the use of gamos and victory as telos see Lattmann (2010) 308-9. 143 Burkert (1985) 132-3, cf. Avagianou (1991) 32-3, Rehm (1994) 32, 165-6 fn.14, Neuburg (1990) 68, for instance. See also pp. 21-5. 144 Cf. Instone (1996) ad N.3.70-5, ad N.3.32-6. 145 Woodbury (1982) 252-3, Carson (1982) 124. Indeed this may also result fromhe t exchange between Apollo and Chiron. Apollo asks three questionsP. (9.33-5) and Chiron replies only to the third, which obviously is what matters to Apollo the most. The answer is that Apollo will marry her, lead her to Africa

The deployment of the gamos metaphor communicates this attribute of telos from gamos to the victory. In O.1 and P.9 victory and gamos are conflated. This is done at its best at

P.9.118. Marriage is the τέλος … ἄκρον of Alexidamus’ victory in the race.146 Again in

O.1 Pelops’ victory (O.1.76-81) and his marriage O.( 1.88-89) interconnect and lead to the realization (note the use of νῦν δ’, O.1.90) of his ambitions and posthumous renown

(O.1.90-96). He was eager for excellence and great deedsO. (1.81-5). His subsequent victory and marriage provided him with a kingdom and immortal kleos as he wished (cf.

O.1.82-4).

I turn now to the first part of thegamos metaphor of victory, the winning of the bride, which parallels the winning of athletic victory.147

3. Mythologizing gamos: The winning of the bride

The arrangement of marriage in archaic and classical Greece was not a question of intimacy or attraction between the two individuals concerned. Marriage was rather a where she will governeverything and that she will bear a boy, Aristaeus, to ApolloP.9.51 ( -65). But Chiron characterizes what Apollo has asked as aκύριον τέλος (P.9.44) known to Apollo (P.9.44-5), but which he, Chiron, will answer (P.9.50-1). In other words Apollo’s marriage is a τέλος, as well as Cyrene’s destiny and motherhood (Woodbury (1982) 254 and fn.31). This is another way Cyrene’s marriage can be regarded as her τέλος quite different from her previous wild life (P.9.18-25) (As line 58 shows, the stress of this account is on Cyrene (Carey (1981) adP. 9.58-58b).). This interpretation is also dictated by the oracular and teleological background in which Chiron’s words are introduced (Cf. Carey (1981) ad P.9.44ff. Note also the verb μέλλεις (P.9.52) and the futures θήσεις (P.9.54), δέξεται (P.9.56), δωρήσεται (P.9.57), τέξεται (P.9.59), οἴσει (P.9.61), στάξοισι (P.9.63), θήσονται (P.9.63), cf. also ὁσία (P.9.36). (Cf. Instone (1996) ad P.9.36-7, ad P.9.44-9, ad P.9.52-3, ad P.9.54-5, cf. also Carey (1981) adP. 9.39, ad P.9.44ff. and ad P.9.61.)) 146 Woodbury (1982) 253, 255, cf. Felson (2004) 386, Athanassaki (2003) 96. Marriage is also linked with victory at P.9.97-103 (McNeal (1978) 147, Woodbury (1982) 255, Felson (2004) 386, Carson (1982) 122- 3, cf. Kurke (1991) 113). 147 For the winning of the bride as metaphor for winning the victory and for the conflation of marriage and victory, see also Lattmann (2010) 272-6, 303-4. 52 matter of exchange and negotiation between families through their leading males.148 It was family interests and alliances, questions of finance, political influence and prestige that dictated a marriage arrangement and not feelings of individual desire.149 Especially when this marriage exchange took place between members of the elite, the interests that dictated this exchange were stronger than any personal considerations. From this perspective marriage was a pragmatic affair and the negotiation of the best match was of critical importance. This aspect of the marriage exchange offered little purchase for

Pindar in his effort to idealize and praise the victor. Hard negotiation makes good business but bad poetry.

To make use of the gamos metaphor of victory Pindar needed to elide or suppress these associations. The extent of the problem for Pindar is learerc when we consider the fact that athletics could be seen as selfish and self-indulgent. Athletic activity had a strong self-regarding aspect: regardless of any civic benefit (to which we return below), it was undertaken for the sake of individual andfamilial prestige in a competitive culture.150

Moreover, the athlete had laboured hard and spent huge amounts of money for his glory:151 In the ancient as in the modern world success in the games required training and practice.152 In addition the victory ode was probably an expensive commodity and its aim was to praise an individual. Lastly, the display of the victor carried political associations with it, even on occasion suspicions of tyrannical aspirations.153 The victory itself as an achievement was celebrated in a cultural-political context in which

148 See Introduction, p. 21. 149 Vérilhac and Vial (1998) 218-27, cf. Oakley and Sinos (1993) 9, Carey (2009) 30. 150 See below, pp. 64-6. 151 Cf. pp. 62-6. 152 See pp. 62-4. 153 Kurke (1991) 175-81 passim. 53 conspicuous consumption for private reasons was generally frowned upon and in which self-assertion in the form of personal display could create hostility.154 There was a general reluctance, for instance, in all Greekstates in the early fifth century to allow tomb display.155 Greek societies were also highly competitive and many of the elite harboured athletic ambitions. All this means that the individual’s good fortune was likely to be resented by his fellow-citizens.156 Especially among the elite157, to which the victor usually belonged (Xenophanes 2.159- D-K158), this public personal display and self-aggrandizement was a potential source of anxiety.159 These negative reactions to the success itself would be strengthened by Pindar’s public praise (N.8.19-22).160

The task of navigating through these complex dynamics was a delicate one. Pindar needs to praise the victor and make the audience celebrate this victory. The poet plays the role of the advocate. He negotiates with thepolis on the victor’s behalf in order to assuage any reservations about the victor, communicate the message of validation of

154 Kurke (1991) 195-224 passim, cf. Carey (2007) 203. 155 Morris (1987) 44-54, 151-5, 183-9, 205-17, cf. Thomas (2007) 141-2. 156 Cf. Thummer (1968-9) 80-1, Kurke (1991) 202, 209. 157 On this issue see Kurke (1991) esp. 195224.- The victor at this period was usually an aristocrat. Athletics were mostly the field of the elite cf.( Isocrates 16.33-4). They required the time and the money for training that only the aristocrats could give. Cf. Fearn (2007) 1501,- and in contrast Young (1984) 147-65 and Fisher (2009) 535-6. 158 οὔτε γὰρ εἰ πύκτης ἀγαθὸς λαοῖσι μετείη οὔτ’ εἰ πενταθλεῖν οὔτε παλαισμοσύνην, οὐδὲ μὲν εἰ ταχυτῆτι ποδῶν, τόπερ ἐστὶ πρότιμον, ῥώμης ὅσσ´ ἀνδρῶν ἔργ´ ἐν ἀγῶνι πέλει, τοὔνεκεν ἂν δὴ μᾶλλον ἐν εὐνομίῃ πόλις εἴη... 159 Cf. Bowra (1964) 187-8. 160 Bundy (1986) 40, 56 fn. 51. 54 victory, acceptance and reintegration of the victor to the audience.161 So the victory has to be presented in a way which will achieve these objectives.

To help with this process marriage itself has been reconfigured. Negotiation between elite families may be necessary in order to ensure a marriage settlement which satisfies all parties, but there is nothing inspiring about it; it offered little scope for poetic idealization. Pindar’s solution was to replace this aspect of marriage with the mythical analogue.162 Marriage is brought about not by negotiation but byeros and enterprise, and the winning of the bride becomes the outcome of as ambition.hero’ 163 Yet ultimately, as I will show below, this is not just about hiding some uninspiring aspect of gamos or victory. It has a positive dimension too.

Marriage based on winning the bride is rare outside the world of myth.164 There is a possibility that the Alexidamus story narrated P. in9 was a historical example of winning the bride, but this is family folklore and we cannot be certain that it is factually correct. Moreover, even if true, it involves a Libyan king, not a Greek, even if the groom was a Greek, and therefore sheds little light on Greek practices.165 And it evidently belonged in the distant past. Herodotus offers another story of contest for the hand of the bride (Hdt. 6.126-30), which may be folklore, too.166 According to Herodotus, this is

161 Kurke (1991) 225-39, 257-62, cf. Most (1985) 120, 186-90 on the poet and his praise for the victor. 162 Cf. Lattmann (2010) 314. Comedy offers an interesting parallel here. The tedious issue of negotiation is sidelined in Aristophanes, too, in his treatment of peace. Peace is also a matter for negotiation. But in Acharnians it is metamorphosed into wine (Ach.1225-34), in Peace it is represented by the rescue of the goddess’s statue Pax ( 221ff., 974ff.), in Lysistrata by the haggling over the body of Reconciliation (Lys.112ff.). See chapter 2, pp. 117-8, 136-7. 163 For the bride as target see Lattmann (2010) 273, 276. 164 Cf. Lattmann (2010) 272-3. 165 Instone (1996) ad 105. 166 Cf. however Parker (1994) 423, who is certain that the narrative did mirror the historical truth. 55 how Cleisthenes of Sicyon tried to find a husband for his daughter. Cleisthenes organized a competition among the Greek elite in order to choose the best match for his daughter. If this is indeed historical fact, it could conceivably be taken as evidenceor f elite practice.167 But the absence of corroborative parallels suggests that Cleisthenes’ choice is not to be taken simply as transparent evidence for larger cultural trends. It is more probable that Cleisthenes is there designedly mimicking heroic practices, perhaps especially the competition for Helen’s marriage.168 Cleisthenes is thus making a statement about his own regime as a revival of Homeric kingship, in which case it again tells us more about the world of myth than the world of experience in archaic Greece.169

His option also mirrors the importance that political alliance with him had in the Greek context.170 But historical or not, this case stands isolated in inter-Greek relationships and practices in the archaic and classical period. So we can be nably reaso sure that the winning of the bride as we find it in the victory odes reflects the influence of the mythical world on Pindaric gamos.171

This substitution of the uninspiring negotiation with the heroic winning of the bride is part of Pindar’s larger heroization of athletics (cf.O. 1.67-96).172 In his praise Pindar tends to assimilate his victors in some measure to the heroic world.173 In Pindar’s ethical world the life of human beings acquires meaning only if one takes risks, succeeds in them and acquires kleos (O.1.81-4). The necessity and importance of danger away from

167 Baragwanath (2008) 154-5, Scott (2005) ad 126.1. 168 Parker (1994) 423, McQueen (2000) x-xi, ad 126.3, 130.1, Scott (2005) ad 126.1, 126.3, 128.1. 169 Parker (1994) 423. 170 Cf. Parker (1994) 424. 171 Cf. Lattmann (2010) 273-4. 172 Steiner (1986) 137-8; cf. Nagy (1990) 199-214, also McNeal (1978) 156. 173 Currie (2005) 3, 7, Lattmann (2010) 314. Nevertheless, I do not find Currie’s views on the anticipation of future heroization persuasive. 56 home (P.4.186, cf. O.1.83) to achieve areta is also on the basis of the Argonautic expedition (P.4.185-7). In N.3 Peleus is a parallel of the victor in his endurance, victory in wrestling and self-reliance (N.3.70, cf. N.3.35-6).174 It is only the test (πε ῖρα, N.3.70) that exposes, attracts notice to and makes prominent the worth and excellence of people.175 Thus both the hero and the victor have proved their worth. Risk, excellence and kleos are featured in Cyrene’s case too. Cyrene leaves her homeP. 9.18-( 9), goes into the wild and engages in dangerous pursuitsP. (9.20-25, P.9.26-8). Her excellence and heroic spirit win her a groom– and a god P (.9.26-32ff.), just as Peleus’areta won176 him Thetis (cf.N.5.33-7ff.).177

This conception of victory is profoundly influenced by epic. This is presented at its most explicit at O.1.81-5. Pelops’ attempt to win the competition at Elis is described there as

μέγας κίνδυνος (O.1.81) which may bring about even his death O.( 1.82-5). The contest for Hippodameia’s hand becomes now a choice between courageously risking an early death with glory and accepting an inglorious old age. The ethic is ultimately and visibly derived from that of the heroic world, especially and most explicitly Il.12.322-8.178

In the semi-fictionalized gamos of the Pindaric epinician, the first stage iseros , here represented in the desire for a wife by the (now) sexually mature Pelops. Theeros of myth approximates to the ambition of the athlete. The targets of the athlete and of the

174 Cf. Lattmann (2010) 152. 175 Cf. Instone (1996) ad N.3.70-5, ad N.3.32-6. 176 Cf. Lattmann (2010) 152. 177 For a recent discussion focused specifically on the marriage motif inPythian 9, see Lattmann (2010) 270-309. 178 Instone (1996) ad O.1.82. Pindar also makes through his vocabulary choices the hero as parallel to Hieron. See on this Gerber (1982) ad O.1.78, ad O.1.83, ad O.1.84, Instone (1996) ad O.1.75-6, ad O.1.78, ad O.1.84, ad O.1.86b-9. For κίνδυνος in athletics see Gerber (1982) ad O.1.81, Instone (1996) ad O.1.81. 57 hero are alike demanding and both bestowkleos on their agent (O.1.69-71, O.1.88, cf.

O.9.9-10, also N.3.32-7, N.4.62-5).179 Pindar takes care to associate Hieron and Pelops in the opening and close of the ode O( .1.23, O.1.93-5).180 The applicability of the myth to Hieron is underlined by vocabulary echoes between Pelops’ prayer and Hieron:

κράτει δὲ πέλασον (O.1.78), κράτει δὲ προσέμειξε δεσπόταν (O.1.22), ἁπάντων καλῶν

(O.1.84), καλῶν (O.1.104), ἄεθλος (O.1.84), ἀέθλων (O.1.99).181 Pelops is ultimately not just the antecedent for the victor as a type but also and especially for the equestrian victor like Hieron.182 In this frame, Pelops’eros for Hippodameia corresponds to

Hieron’s ambitions (μερίμναισιν, O.1.108).183 The equation between eros and ambition is underlined by the way Pindar’s Pelops describes the marriage, as an achievement, as a target achievable only at great risk, and as a source of glory. Hippodameia is both an actual object of desire and a representative of something larger, the highest prize which demands the highest effort and conveys commensurate glory.O .1 is not the only case where eros is explicitly and inseparably connected with ambition. This is also the case in the myth of Ixion’s inappropriate eros for Hera, who belongs to Zeus (τὰν Διὸς εὐναὶ

λάχον / πολυγαθέες, P.2.27-8). This makes it overambitious (μαινομέναις φρασίν,

P.2.26; ὕβρις εἰς ἀυάταν ὑπεράφανον / ὦρσεν, P.2.28-9) to fall in love with her (P.2.26-

8) and even more to attempt to unite with her, as he did (P.2.33-4).

179 Eros was used as metaphor in the literature of earlier period. It appears already in Homer for the desire for food (Od.12.308), for instance. It is also used by Thucydides to illustrate the strong desire in the narrative of the Sicilian expedition (Thuc.6.24.3). 180 Köhnken (1974) 199-200. 181 Gerber (1982) ad 75-85, cf. also Instone (1996) ad O.1.78, ad O.1.84. 182 Köhnken (1974) 203-6. 183 It is in the frame of this association that Pindar changes the myth of Pelops and presents both ambitions as related to horses. Hieron wanted to win in a horse race, as Pelops did. But the notion of horses is used in another way, too. It is inherent in the name of Pelops’ object of desire, Hippodameia, while Pindar calls Hieron ἱπποχάρμαν βασιλῆα (O.1.23) (Köhnken (1974) 203). 58

As these passages show, in the Pindaric epinician,gamos and its associations become a means of expressing aspiration in general. And it is important thateros is confined by gamos in this way. In the case of the athlete, the concept and language oferos help to present the will to succeed and achieve as something almost visceral, as a powerful yearning. At the same time the location of eros within the socially sanctioned context of marriage presents this ambition as something ethically right and socially beneficial, not as mere appetite.184

There are however right ambitions which are compatible with mortal limitations and perverted ambitions which are beyond them. The first bring success and the latter destruction. Perverted desire is a failure to acknowledge the limitations in human ambitions (N.11.48; cf. P.3.59-60, 87-92).185 Apart from Ixion’s trespass mentioned above, Coronis polluted Apollo’s σπέρμα ... καθαρόν (P.3.12-20). Tityos tried to rape

Leto (P.4.90-2). All of them are accordingly punished. Coronis was killed by Apollo

(P.3.8-11). Ixion got a cloud, a fake Hera, to unite with (P.2.36-40) and was subjected to eternal punishment, a punishment for which he was solely and personally responsible:

τὸν δὲ τετράκναμον ἔπραξε δεσμόν / ἑὸν ὄλεθρον ὅγ’ (P.2.40-1, cf. P.2.29-30).186

Tityos was killed by Artemis (P.4.90). All these desires were distorted in that they were overambitious. Mere humans sought to vie with the gods and ignored the limitations inherent in human nature. Coronisἤ ρατο τῶν ἀπεόντων (P.3.20). Ixion failed toὁρᾶ ν

184 I return to this issue on p. 72 below. 185 Currie (2005) 350, 398. 186 Cf. Carey (1981) 623- and ad 29, ad 40 and ad 41. For the common features between Ixion’s and Coronis’ myth, see Morrison (2007) 97. 59

μέτρον (P.2.34).187 All these are set against the positive values of the Pindaric epinician.

In Pythian 3 by contrast the laudator presents himself as conscious of the limitations inherent in human nature as the basis for his conclusion that he is not to wish for

Hieron’s recovery (cf. P.3.65f.). Instead, in a gesture which is meant also to include the ailing Hieron and all right-thinking people, he turns to himself and says: μή βίον

ἀθάνατον / σπεῦδε (P.3.61-2). This emphasis on good and bad desire allows Pindar to sharpen his praise of athletic ambition. In the real world the opposite of athletic desire is lack of ambition reflected in inactivity, not malign ambition. By generating a sharp contrast between good and bad desire, Pindar is able to accentuate the positive nature of athletic desire.

At the other end of the spectrum from Ixion and the other criminals, legitimate ambition and eros bring success andgamos . Apollo’s passion,188 μείλιχος ὀργά (P.9.43, cf.

P.9.32-7 and σοφᾶς / Πειθοῦς ἱερᾶν φιλοτάτων, P.9.39-39a) is right and achieves gamos. Apollo has asked Chiron about it (P.9.36-7). Chiron encouraged him to proceed to this union P. ( 9.51-2) and explained its fated natureP. 9.52ff.), ( which ultimately shows its legitimacy. Pelops’ desire to win Hippodameia, σχεθέμεν (O.1.71)189 shows due regard for mortal limitations and results in success and his wedding. Particularly important here is the word hetoimon (O.1.69), which characterizes the marriage as close both in a physical sense (he is at Elis) and in the more profound sense of ‘accessible’,

187 Zeus had been a benefactor to him but he wanted to rape Hera instead of feelinggreater gratitude. Ungratefulness is surely its first messageP. 2.23 ( -5), but beyond that he is guilty of ignoring mortal limitations (P.2.33-4) (Currie (2005) 292). 188 Carey (1981) ad 42, Instone (1996) ad 43, cf. Burton (1962) 41. 189 Slater (1969) s.v. ἔχω, Gerber (1982) ad 71. 60

‘available’, ‘within the limit of realistic human ambition’.190 Divine favour on the basis of correct conduct towards the gods contributes to the warrant of Pelops’ success. His relationship with Poseidon (O.1.25ff.) gave him the means (charis) to ask for help in his endeavours. The moral rightness of Pelops’ victory, and in particular its association with a sense of human limitation, is highlighted through the contrast with Tantalus. Tantalus is another example of ignorance of limits. His distorted desires are described in the language of eating: καταπέψαι (O.1.55), κόρῳ (O.1.56) in the context of the symposium where he was said to have slain his son and given him to the gods to eatO. (1.37-9 and

O.1.48-52); his real transgression regarding the gods had also to do with symposia and food O. ( 1.60-4). The contrast between Tantalus’ improper ambition and Pelops’ moderate ambition is stressed through the use of the language of eating (ἕψοι, O.1.83) to express the inglorious lifestyle rejected by Pelops.191 The issue of legitimate aspiration is picked up at the close when the ode comes back to Hieron:192 his wishes are rightful and this is expressed through the divine sanction for his activities (θεὸς ἐπίτροπος ἐὼν

τεαῖσι μήδεται / ἔχων τοῦτο κᾶδος, Ἰέρων, / μερίμναισιν, O.1.106-8).193

This idea of athletic ambition as a moderate ideal is one we find elsewhere in Pindar. In

Olympian 7 Pindar presents Diagoras as prudentὀ ρθα ( ὶ φρένες, O.7.91), a quality inherited from his ancestors, and his success as the result of such a legitimate ambition

(O.7.89-95). Hieron’s victory and aspirations lie within the area defined by mortal

190 On the idea that the near is good and safe, and the far is bad and risky see Young (1968) 35-68, 116-20. 191 Cf. Gerber (1982) ad 83, Instone (1996) ad O.1.82-4. 192 It may also be the case, as has been suggested (cf. Gerber (1983) ad 55, ad 56), that the language of eating linking Pelops and Tantalus may also recall Hieron’ssymposio n which was presented in the beginning of the ode O. ( 1.14-8ff.) and introduce the issue of Hieron’s ambitions and achievement by implication. But in any way the comparison becomes explicit at the end of O.1. 193 Cf. Köhnken (1974) 205-6. 61 limitations. His success was granted by the godsP.2.-7- ( 12) after his pious request

(P.2.12) due to his acknowledgment of mortal deficiency (cf.P.2.56, 65-7).194 This virtue of Hieron is underlined by Pindar’s version of the myth of Ixion, which is used in order to illustrate human hybris against the gods and ignorance of his limits as mortal.195

Ambition, however, is not enough. In addition the athlete must be prepared to face risk and endure labour.196 Victory in the games in the historical period does not involve (in most events) the life-threatening danger we meet in myth.197 But in any case it demands time, effort and more importantly the expenditure of large sums of money,198 with no certainty of success (I.4.41); and physical risk of a sort there often is, together with the risk to one’s reputation in a society where honour mattered.199 The victor’s prize is the crown; that of the hero is the bride, who likewise is a reward for great ponos (N.1.69-70,

N.3.36, N.4.62-5). Heracles gains his marriage to Hebe– and immortality – as reward,

καμάτων μεγάλων ποινὰν (N.1.70, cf. I.4.59-60): he cleared the earth of monsters and evil men and he also contributed to the victory of the gods in the battle with the giants

(N.1.62-9). In I.4 he killed Antaeus and restored order to Poseidon’s temple I.( 4.52-4b); for Pindar as for the Greek tradition more generally he is the great benefactor of mankind (I.4.55-57).200 Labour is also heavily emphasized in the case of Peleus, who

194 Most (1985) 71, 88, 92-3. 195 Most (1985) 82, 88; for the change of the myth see Most (1985) 83-4. See above pp. 58-60. 196 Cf. Carey (1981) ad P.9.96-7 (with a list of occurrences). For risk, see also above, pp. 56-8. 197 Chariot racing was dangerous and included a risk of death (cf. P.5.32-4, 49-53 and Willcock (1995) 8, for instance). In boxing, wrestling or the pancration, death was only occasional (see Brophy and Brophy (1985) on this). 198 See above, pp. 53-4. 199 Cf. Kurke (1991) 98-9,110-1. See p.66 and also pp. 53-4. 200 Carey (1981) 132 and ad N.1.71-2, and on I.4: McNeal (1978) 147, 156, Willcock (1995) ad I.4.58-60 and p.83. N.1.70 makes the parallel between Heracles and Chromius, the victor, explicit: ἡ cf.συχίαν καμάτων μεγάλων ποινὰν for Heracles (N.1.70) and μεγάλων δ’ἀέθλων (N.1.11), ἐν κορυφαῖς ἀρετᾶν μεγάλαις (Ν.1.34), even πολυπόνων (Ν.1.33). (Carey (1981) ad N.1.70.) 62 managed to capture Iolcus single-handedly (at least forPindar) and subdue Thetis

(N.3.34-6) because of his tenacity,ἐ γκονητί (N.3.35-6, N.4.65),201 as she transformed herself (in a manner typical of sea gods) into a variety of threatening shapes N.( 4.62-4).

The ponos of the hero here is particularly emphasizedth rough a very careful choice of superlatives (ὀξυτάτους, δεινοτάτων, N.4.63-4) and strong compound and descriptive adjectives παγκρατές, θρασυμαχάνων (N.4.62); such an adjective (ὑψιθρόνων, Ν.4.65) is also used to describe Thetis, Peleus’ acquisition. This in turn highlights the victor’s analogous ponos and success.202 It is significant that Pindar should choose one of the

Aeacids, Aegina’s local heroes,203 as the archetype forponos and achievement. This reflects in part the special relationship Pindar had with Aeginetean victors.204 But there is another reason which made Aegina inspiring and effective as a choice. The theme of labour was especially relevant to this island because of its specialization in athletic martial disciplines.205 It also seems that the usurpation of the Aeacids by the aristocracy of Aegina gave them an ideal mythic reflection in the struggle of Peleus against Thetis.

The essence of the Aeacid myth was martial valour andkleos and the association with the Aeginetean aristocracy authorized their position in the command of the army of

201 Lattmann (2010) 152; cf. for instance, Instone (1996) ad 326, - ad 35-6. On the change that Pindar made to the myth in order to make the parallel with the athletic struggles clearer see Burnett (2005) 131-3. Peleus’ ἀρετή was the reason the gods decided that Thetis should become his wife (I.8.40, N.5.33-6, cf. Willcock (1995) ad 54-68). 202 Burnett (2005) 247. 203 Race (1986) 92, Willcock (1995) 92. 204 Race (1986) 92, Willcock (1995) 10, Hornblower (2007) 293ff.: for no other place did he compose more odes than for Aegina. 205 Race (1986) 93-4. 63

Aegina.206 Peleus’ struggle to succeed with Thetis offered a particularly effective model for the purpose of validating the victor’s achievement.

4. The public celebration

The victory is celebrated in a public feast. As we saw in the Introduction, the public celebration was a crucial element of the weddings, too, and confirmed both the validity of the wedding, as also the integration of the new oikos into the larger community of the polis.207

This is a feature which unites athletic success andgamos . There is more to the victory celebrations than a social event, as we shall see. They also have a practical communal function. In this section I will argue that this public character of the victory celebration was crucial for Pindar’s presentation of victory. As in the case of the weddings, the public was asked to validate this victory in order to-integrate re the victor into the community.

This validation is necessary because the ictoryv has changed the athlete. In achieving victory he has acquired glory and a new status. A victory in Greek athletic Games mattered in a very practical way as it generated a remarkable change in social standing.

The significance of victory is reflected in the heroic status enjoyed by some victors.208

206 Fearn (2007) 151. 207 See pp.20-1. 208 Currie (2005) 151-2. 64

This new status209 is already signalled by the reception of the victor in hispolis . The victor usually returned to his city in a chariot-procession (eiselasis); in exceptional circumstances a part of the city-wall was broken for the victor to enter through 210 it.

Subsequently he was publicly crowned with wreaths or garlands or he received a phyllobolia.211 Moreover, victors were often honoured by free meals in theprytaneion throughout their life sitesis ( ); this was the case in Athens, but in some other cities as well.212 The dedication of statues of the victors, sometimes in theagora of their city, or a sanctuary or, for those most prosperous, at the place of their victory, was a further recognition of their kudos.213 In particular, a statue in Olympia was a reward that

Olympic victors enjoyed (Pliny, NH 34.16), albeit only the most wealthy or powerful ones.214 Other rewards attested include a position of honour in battle for athletic victors.215

This enhanced status is also attested by the privileges, often financial, which the victors enjoyed in the Greek cities.216 Furthermore, victory was politically bankable.Victors’ prestige was strengthened through the victory and this facilitated the realization of their political ambitions.217 Indeed, the political potential of victory is reflected in the coup attempt of Cylon in 632 BC (Thuc. 1.126).218 Its persistence even in democratic Athens

209 See the brilliant discussion of Currie (2005) 139-52. 210 Kurke (1993) 134, 141; cf. Currie (2005) 139-40. 211 Currie (2005) 141-2. 212 Currie (2005) 142-3. 213 Smith (2007) 95. 214 Currie (2005) 143-4, Smith (2007) 94-101, esp. 95. 215 Currie (2005) 149-51. 216 Bowra (1964) 184-6. 217 See especially Kurke (1991) 225-39. 218 Bowra (1964) 177, Davies (1981) 99. 65 is shown by the arguments of Alcibiades before the Sicilian expedition (Thuc.

6.16.2).219

The prestige value of victory is amply brought out in the contrast with the loss of face to the loser, exemplified in a hyperbolic form by Pindar’s description of the homecoming of the loser at P.8.81-7:

τέτρασι δ᾽ ἔμπετες ὑψόθεν

σωμάτεσσι κακὰ φρονέων,

τοῖς οὔτε νόστος ὁμῶς

ἔπαλπνος ἐν Πυθιάδι κρίθη,

οὐδὲ μολόντων πὰρ ματέρ᾽ ἀμφὶ γέλως γλυκύς

ὦρσεν χάριν˙ κατὰ λαύρας δ᾽ ἐχθρῶν ἀπάοροι

πτώσσοντι, συμφορᾷ δεδαγμένοι.

This image is repeated at O.8.69.

Nevertheless, these gains are not automatic but are dependent on whether the community acknowledges the achievement of the athlete.220 For Pindar this public acknowledgement and acceptance will also contribute to the generation and duration of the victor’s kleos.221

219 Bowra (1964) 177, Davies (1981) 99. 220 Crotty (1982) 104-38, especially 120-1, Kurke (1991) 15-34, especially 27-8. 221 See below on the issue of public acceptance and the preservation of kleos, pp. 72-3, 77-82. 66

Again, Pindar employs the marriage metaphor of victory to help him accomplishthe task of the victor’s reintegration into his polis. The wedding celebration is used to image the victory celebration.222 One feature of the wedding celebration is makarismos, which expressed the absolute happiness of the newly-wed pair.223 It is a feature which unsurprisingly recurs to a heightened extent in the victory224 ode. Pindar himself includes the characterization μάκαρ in the praise of the victor (P.5.20-3, N.7.94). He repeatedly stresses that the victor has reached the summit of human happiness.225

Pindar deploys this affinity in hisgamos metaphor in order to highlight the victor’s happiness and underline the value of the victory. In the frame of this metaphor, perfect olbos as the reward for ponos and achievement is particularly emphasized through the celebrations of marriages between heroes and goddesses, which take place in the community of the gods. Heracles’ marriage to Hebe is hisἐξαίρετος ποινά for his great labours N ( .1.69-72). Peleus’ greatponos and areta (N.4.57-64) could rightly be rewarded (N.5.34-6) through the marriage to Thetis and a wedding gathering among the gods N ( .4.65-8) or a celebration in song and music with Apollo and the Muses

(N.5.22ff.).226

The same factors are at work in the extended simile at the opening ofOlympian 7. The picture of bliss that we see in myths appears in the nonmythic- weddings of Pindar’s narratives. It is present in the toast made by the father of the bride atO .7.1-6: the word

222 Cf. Lattmann (2010) 314. 223 See Introduction, pp. 19, 24. 224 Currie (2005) 151. 225 For instance P.10.22-9, P.1.46, cf. N.4.76-85; see also O.1.12ff. and P.3.84-6, where the victor is a king. See above pp. 48-51. 226 Lattmann (2010) 152. 67

ζαλωτόν (O.7.6) expresses the notion of definitive happiness in the marriage celebrated

(ὁμόφρονος εὐνᾶς, O.7.6). Since this wedding feast is used as the image of the victory celebration (Ο.7.7-10) the attribute of the perfect happiness of the victory is emphasized by its association with the gamos.

Φιάλαν ὡς εἴ τις ἀφνειᾶς ἀπὸ χειρὸς ἑλὼν

ἔνδον ἀμπέλου καχλάζοισαν δρόσῳ

δωρήσεται

νεανίᾳ γαμβρῷ προπίνων οἴκοθεν οἴκαδε, πάγχρυσον,

κορυφὰν κτεάνων,

συμποσίου τε χάριν κᾶδός τε τιμάσαις <ν>έον, ἐν δὲ

φίλων

παρεόντων θῆκέ νιν ζαλωτὸν ὁμόφρονος εὐνᾶς·

καὶ ἐγὼ νέκταρ χυτόν, Μοισᾶν δόσιν, ͜ἀεθλοφόροις

ἀνδράσιν πέμπων, γλυκὺν καρπὸν φρενός,

ἱλάσκομαι,

Ὀλυμπίᾳ Πυθοῖ τε νικώντεσσιν (O.7.1-10).

These lines describe an idealized wedding feast. Everything seems to be in abundance; this is a wedding feast in rich familiesἀφνει ᾶς, ( O.7.1; πάγχρυσον, O.7.4); the bridegroom is young (νεανίᾳ γαμβρῷ, O.7.4); it is a prestigious marriage alliance (κᾶδός

τε τιμάσαις <ν>έον .... ζαλωτόν, O.7.5-6), all the more since it is one ofhomophrosyne

(ὁμόφρονος εὐνᾶς, O.7.6). An important aspect of this marriage is the intertextual relationship with the Odyssey:

σοὶ δὲ θεοὶ τόσα δοῖεν ὅσα φρεσὶ σῇσι μενοινᾷς,

ἄνδρα τε καὶ οἶκον, καὶ ὁμοφροσύνην ὀπάσειαν

ἐσθλήν· οὐ μὲν γὰρ τοῦ γε κρεῖσσον καὶ ἄρειον,

ἢ ὅθ’ ὁμοφρονέοντε νοήμασιν οἶκον ἔχητον

ἀνὴρ ἠδὲ γυνή· πόλλ’ ἄλγεα δυσμενέεσσι,

χάρματα δ’ εὐμενέτῃσι, μάλιστα δέ τ’ ἔκλυον αὐτοί (Od.6.180-5).

The prominent position of such a glorious wedding at the opening of the song for

Diagoras in the context of a public celebration is highly suggestive. It firmly emphasizes the importance of communal (φίλων παρεόντων, O.7.6) acceptance and confirmation of the new κᾶδος (O.7.5). This is stressed by the (almost) all-male context. It is significant that the bride though present in the imageὁμόφρονος ( εὐνᾶς, O.7.6) is left on the margin as the image focuses on the male and public aspects ofgamos . Given the strong association between wedding and victory, since the importance of the role of the community figures so starkly in the first part of the simile, the implication is that the role of Pindar’s present audience is of great significance, too. Pindar thus mptsatte to give an ideal picture of the victory and implicitly asks his audience to confirm, approve and recognize this achievement.

In N.1 the public celebration is stressed again. There is a feast celebrating the victory at

N.1.19-22 and one for the marriage of the victor’s heroic prototype, Heracles: victory and marriage and certainly apotheosis are confirmed. Heracles is integrated into a new

69 community, a divine one, and has nothing to expect now but eternal glory.227 Thus, by implication, this request forthe reintegration of the victor is addressed to Pindar’s audience in the victory celebration of Chromius (N.1.19-22).

An important part of the representation of both marriage and victory celebration in

Pindar was the throwing of leaves. This is a common aspect of marriage ritual and the events after victory. Thus, the wedding ritual appears at the ending of P.9 conflated with athletic victory.228 The φυλλοβολία of P.9.123-4, though typical of athletic victories, recalls the nuptial καταχύσματα; it shows the victory and hints at gamos.229

The final part of the metaphor is the transfer of the bride to her new home, foregrounded in the case both of ApolloP.9.5-13, ( P.9.51-8) and Alexidamus P.9.121- ( 3).

Telesicrates’ achievement of victory too, which comes in the narrative immediately after the marital union of Cyrene and Apollo,230 is presented in the same terms: as a wedding procession to the bride’s new home and the reception of the coupleP.9.71- (5).231

Telesicrates brings his δόξαν ἱμερτάν (P.9.75) as if she were his bride.232 The couples have their hands attached, as usual in the representations of wedding rituals in

227 Carey (1981) 132 and cf. also ad 71-2. 228 Kurke (1991) 133, Felson (2004) 386; cf. Lattmann (2010) 273-4. 229 Felson (2004) 386, Carson (1982) 122-3. Carson (1982) 122-3 observes several vocabulary signs of wedding throughout this myth: ἁρμόζων (117), ἀπάγεσθαι (119), ἆγεν (123). 230 On the gamos of Apollo and Cyrene in P.9, see Carey (1981) ad 13, ad 53. 231 Cf. Instone (1996) ad 56-6a. 232 Carey (1981) ad 78, cf. Kurke (1991) 128, 132. Cf. also Alexidamus who holds his bride by the hand and leads her through the crowds P(.9.122-3) mirroring in a way Apollo’s gesture atP. 9.6 (Woodbury (1982) 255, Carson (1982) 122). 70 iconography (P.9.117, 122).233 There they are received by a female in the role of the mother of the groom, Aphrodite (P.9.9-11), Libya (P.9.55-56a) or Cyrene (P.9.73-4).234

Reintegration into the community with the new status figuresP .9 in both for the mythical prototype and the victor: Cyrene is founding a new colonyP.9.54- ( 5).235

Likewise, Pindar pays great attention to this incorporation of Alexidamusby placing a detailed description of it at the end of the ode. Thus not only does he emphatically underscore its importance but he also seeks to prefigure this reception and acceptance of the victor. So the metaphorical passage of the victor to his new tussta236 is effectively realized through the community’s acknowledgement.

An important aspect of the re-admission of the victor into his city is the removal of any hostile emotions directed towards the victor by his fellow-citizens.237 Of all negative reactions, Pindar explicitly presentsphthonos as the only possible reason for the rejection of the victor. Resentment at conspicuous display or suspicion - of self aggrandizement is never explicitly spelled out. Pindar calculatedly oversimplifies the obstacles to the reintegration of the victor because this facilitates his praise task.

233 Carson (1982) 121-2. This gesture is represented in several vase-paintings, including an Attic red- figure pointed amphora (Copenhagen painter, New York, Levy collection), an Atticfigure red - loutrophoros (Boston, Museum of Fine Arts 03.802), an Attic redfigure- tripod pyxis (Warsaw, National Museum 142319), an Attic white-ground pyxis (Splanchnopt painter, London, British Museum D 11), an Attic red-figure loutrophoros (Sabouroff Painter, Copenhagen, National Museum 9080) and an Attic red- figure calyx-krater (Painter of the Athens wedding, Athens, National Museum 1388). (See Oakley and Sinos (1993) 51-128, esp. 94-114.) 234 Cf. Carson (1982) 122-3, Instone (1996) ad 9, Carey (1981) ad 9, ad 75/6 cf. also Carey (1981) ad 13. 235 Carson (1982) 128. 236 See on this pp. 53-5. 237 See also pp. 53-5 on this issue. 71

In addressing thephthonos attracted by success and celebration, he argues both implicitly and explicitly that this expenditure by the victor was not only for himself but for the community as well, since thepolis had a share in the glory of this victory.238 At the same time, Pindar’s presentation also aimed to legitimize any consumption of money for the celebration of the victory.239 This effect is aided in part by thegamos metaphor.

The polis is embedded in the metaphor as an active participant in the process. Their acceptance of the victor and acknowledgement of his success in celebration is a part of the gamos imagery. On the other hand, the wedding metaphor associates the celebration of the victory with a celebration whose collective importance is accepted and which is part of the recurring rhythms of community life. This is never made explicit, but still it achieves its effect by implication.

The public reception was important not just for the immediate acknowledgement of success, as noted above, but also for the duration of thekleos (see esp. I.7.16-17) which came from the victory. The achievement, important though it may be, was incapable in itself of keeping its glory alive. It is always up to the victor’s community to preserve the memory of victory and with it thekleos of the victor. This is effectively underlined in

Pythian 9, with the conflation of wedding and victory in the case of the reception of

238 Kurke (1991) 196, 198, 202, 22539.- This idea of the communal value of victory specifically in comparison with gamos is enhanced in P.9. if one agrees with Lattmann (2010) 3049,- 312-3 that the brides in the mythic cases communicate their qualities to the country which receives them. Lattmann (2010) 309 also regards the glory and the general prosperity of thepolis due to marriage and victory as everlasting: ‘Sein [i.e., the victor’s] Sieg im Laufen ist Höhepunkt der Stadtsgeschichte und Garant alles zukünftigen Glücks und Segens’. 239 Kurke (1991) 185-6. 72

Alexidamus in his polis (P.9.123-5),240 as well as in the injunction to the audience to celebrate Telesicrates’ victory (P.9.93-6):241

μή με λίποι καθαρὸν φέγγος. Αἰγίνᾳ τε γάρ

φαμὶ Νίσου τ᾽ ἐν λόφῳ τρὶς δὴ πόλιν τάνδ᾽ εὐκλεΐξαι,

σιγαλὸν ἀμαχανίαν ἔργῳ φυγών˙

οὕνεκεν, εἰ φίλος ἀστῶν, εἴ τις ἀντάεις, τό γ᾽ ἐν ξυνῷ

πεποναμένον εὖ

μὴ λόγον βλάπτων ἁλίοιο γέροντος κρυπτέτω˙

κεῖνος αἰνεῖν καὶ τὸν ἐχθρόν

παντὶ θυμῷ σύν τε δίκᾳ καλὰ ῥέζοντ᾽ ἔννεπεν (P.9.90-6).

Just as the wedding is celebrated through a wider community beyond the families concerned, φίλων παρεόντων (O.7.5-6), so the victor– like his counterpart the bridegroom242 – can be ὄλβιος (O.7.10, cf. also O.1.11 (μάκαιραν), P.5.11 (μάκαιραν),

P.5.20 (μάκαρ), N.9.3, P.9.4, cf. Ν.1.71) only when he enjoys φᾶμαι ἀγαθαί (O.7.10).243

And for this the community is crucial.

5. Song

240 Felson (2004) 386. 241 Felson (2004) 387. 242 The notion of marriage and specifically wedding and wedding feast as ὄλβος ὑπέρτατος is presented at P.3.89 (ὄλβον ὑπέρτατον), and heroic examples of such ὄλβος are Cadmus and Peleus (P.3.86-95). 243 Kurke (1991) 123-4. 73

Unsurprisingly, an important underpinning for all the effects identified above was the representation of the victory ode as a wedding song. The victory ode, for all its inclusion of praise of the victor’s city, was dedicated to an individual and a family. The wedding song by contrast had a communal character.244 So, the gamos metaphor in imaging the victory as a wedding appropriates for the victor the communal values of the wedding song and thus seeks a similar enthusiastic celebration. Pindar’s song asks the audience to welcome it, receive their fellow-citizen as the victore h has now become and acknowledge and validate the victory.

This is not as straightforward a process as it might seem. Though choral song is usually the civic voice, in the epinician there is a less straightforward link between singers and society. In the case of the victory ode, the relationship between the chorus and the state is ambiguous.245 In most choral modes, the chorus is commissioned by and speaks for the polis.246 In the case of the epinician the choral voice ‘is a communal voice ... by aspiration rather than by delegation’.247 In choosing to present his song as the civic voice Pindar seeks to make his song the song of the polis and ease both the validation of the victory and the reintegration of the victor into his polis.248

A further problem is that the epinician ode is a paid task; this had implications for the objectivity of the praise of the victors.249 This could give rise to a (quite natural)

244 See p.19. 245 Carey (2007) 207-8. 246 These issues have been recently discussed by Carey (2007) 207-8. 247 Carey (forthcoming 2013). 248 Cf. Nagy (1990) 141-2. 249 Carey (2007) 207. Hornblower (2009) 42-3, cf. in contrast Pelliccia (2009) 245-7, who dismisses the evidence provided by epinician poetry and speculates that the poets were of such high social class that 74 suspicion about the sincerity of the praise. Again the marriage metaphor contributes to reorientating the thoughts of the audience in relation to this problematic truth.

In this it aligns itself with motifs such ascharis ,250 xenia251 and philia252, which Pindar deploys as a strategy to represent his motives for praise in -monetary non and more intimate terms. In this frame the exchange taking place in gamos agreements is also used to idealize the relationship between Pindar and the victor.253 Thus it is highly suggestive that Pindar chooses to use the toast, which confirms the alliance between the two houses

(οἴκοθεν οἴκαδε ... κᾶδός τε τιμάσαις, O.7.4-5), as a parallel to his song O.( 7.7-9)254 to characterize his role; the effect is to suppress the negative connotationsthat the commercial dimension of his poetic activity might possess.255 The relationship between poet and victor also gains in significance through this assimilation with the marriage alliances (O.7.3-5).256 Between families, marriage bonds themselves were important, as a matter of fact. Especially in the case of the aristocrats, in the context of the proem of

O.7, their importance was outstanding, since the interests they served were of major importance and the property exchanged greater.257 The relationship then between the

they did not need to compose poetry for a living. Indeed, there is such evidence in the odes. Pindar at least recognizes a commercial element in the - poetpatron relationship P (.11.41-2, I.2.1-11, esp. 68,- for instance; see Morgan (1993) 13-14). 250 Kurke (1991) 103-6. 251 Kurke (1991) 135-59. 252 Kurke (1991) 122-5. 253 Kurke (1991) 108-34. 254 Willcock (1995) ad O.7.1-12, ad O.7.1-4, ad O.7.7-10. Pindar likes this simile between drink and his poetry (N.3.76-9; cf. I.6.2-3). In this casethe simile is very useful to Pindar, because nectar gives immortality (cf. O.1.62-4). The effect of the simile is that it claims Pindar’s poetry does the same (Willcock (1995) ad O.7.7-10). 255 Cf. Athanassaki (2003) 195, Nicholson (2000) 198, Kurke (1991) 120. 256 Willcock (1995) ad O.7.1-12. 257 Kurke (1991) 116-7, Gould (1980) 44-5. 75 poet and his patron, the victor, loses its commercial aspect and relocates itself within the systems of reciprocity valued by the Panhellenic elite.

In the frame of the association between marriage and victory Pindar idealizes his victory ode by describing it as νέκταρ χυτόν, picking up the idea of drink offering from the first strophe;258 Pindar frequently likens his song to drink.259 Here, however, he builds on these motifs. The victory ode is like not just wine but νέκταρ. This emphatically presents the epinician as lasting song.

Song, like other aspects of the victory, is heroized in Pindar and forms part of the larger quasi-heroization of the victor discussed above.260 The analogy of marriage song assists in this process. This is especially clear in Nemean 5. There Peleus’ marriage with Thetis signals his acceptance by the gods despite his past sins N.( 5.14-8). The divine approval is expressed in particular through the wedding song by the Muses and ApolloN. (5.22-

5ff.) enacted at the feast forhis wedding and in the presence of the gods, as well as by their arrangement of the match. Through the narrative conflation of the wedding song261 with the epinician ode theareta of Peleus images the areta of the victor and idealizes him and his achievement. Thus Pindar implicitly asks for the communal validation of the victory.

258 Cf. Nünlist (1998) 199-205, esp. 199, 205. 259 Thummer (1968-9) 82-102, esp. 86-93, cf. Willcock (1995) ad O.7.7-10. 260 See pp. 52-64. 261 Pindar narrates the song of the Muses in direct speech, but this quotation does not end at a certain point for Pindar’s own ode to resume. 76

The confirmatory role of the song is crucial in this metaphor because this acknowledgement of the victor can generate the most effective immortalization of the victor’s kleos. As we saw above,262 public acknowledgement of victory was crucial for the new status of the victor to come into effect, but also forkleos his. Yet, public acknowledgement in itself is of limited duration. Memories fade, as Pindar stresses:

‘humans forget’ (I.7.17). Only Pindar’s song can guarantee the immortality of the kleos:

ἁ δ’ ἀρετὰ κλειναῖς ἀοιδαῖς / χρονία τελέθει (P.3.114-5).263

The effect of immortality is underlined in Nemean 5 where the wedding song is sung by the Muses (N.5.25ff.). Through the syntactical assimilation of the victory ode with the song of the Muses noted above, Pindar suggests that as the Muses guaranteed immortality for Peleus, the poet achieves immortality with his ode for the victor.264 This is something that he does elsewhere too, as at N.4.6-8.265

Song in this role of preserver reflects another dimension of marriage, procreation. The ultimate role of marriage is to provide heirs who will perpetuate the oikos and through it the polis.266 Olympian 10 offers a direct equation of the song withissue (O.10.86-96).

The song has the same role as a son. The latter provides the continuation of theoikos and the fortune is kept inside the oikos, which is a kind of immortalization (O.10.88-90).

Likewise, the song provides the εὐρὺ κλέος of the victory and thus keeps it immortal

262 See pp. 64-6, 72-3. 263 Of course, the idea of immortalization through song is not Pindar’s. It is very epic in its origin. 264 Pfeijffer (1999) 72, 76. 265 Pfeijffer (1999) 72. 266 See Introduction, pp. 20-1. 77

(O.10.91-6). Even the danger that the death poses to oikos the and the kleos of the victory is defeated with the son (O.10.90) and the song (O.10.92-3) respectively.

The notion of immortalization through Pindar’s song is perhapsmost fully integrated with the notion ofgamos through the wish for procreation in the myth I. of6.43-9.

Heracles there goes to take Telamon to join himon the Trojan expedition, but he finds

Telamon and his family feasting. He makes then a toast and wishes for a son to be born to Telamon. A good case has been made for taking the feast in the myth here to be a wedding feast and the context agrees with this reading of I.6.36.267 The libations and the prayer for a son suit the occasion of a wedding very well. Heracles’ choice to wish for

Telamon’s fathering a son (I.6.42-6) makes best sense at a wedding occasion, given the explicit emphasis on child-bearing as the aim of marriage, and taking also into account that Telamon’s particular request at that gathering, according to Heracles, was a son

(I.6.52). This cannot be a mere coincidence. If the context is a wedding feast, the wishes and the prayers acquire added significance.

Pindar chooses to describe Heracles’ role in terms of the role οf the poet in a victory celebration. Heracles prays for the continuation of theoikos ; the poet wishes for the immortality of the fame of the victor. Indeed, the mythic feastd prayer an finds its analogue in the opening scene of the ode. The occasion of Heracles’ prayerI .6.1-( 9) is likened to that of the poet’s wishes: this is a feast (συμποσίου, I.6.1), where the poet makes a libation and prays for a further victory I(.6.7-9). Although the poet’s emphasis

267 There is a serious textual problem caused by the lacuna atI. 6.36. As Thummer (1968-9) and Privitera (1982) note ad hoc, Von der Muehll’s reading γάμον or γάμους is likely to be the correct one on the basis of the similar structure δαινύντα γάμον (Od.4.3) (Burnett (2005) 82 fn.3). 78 here is on the aspirations for further success, the reference to Mnemosyne at the end of the ode (I.6.74-5) points to song’s ability to perpetuate fame and thus points to a further dimension of the analogy between the immediate context and the notion of procreation in the myth. Thus the procreation through marriage images the immortalization ofkleos through the victory ode.

This notion of immortality is further developed when the victor’s present success is shown to act in the framework of the victories of his clan. The victory perpetuates the fame of all the victories that thisoikos has achieved N. ( 5.1-8, N.5.43, N.11.19-21,

I.2.28-32, I.2.44-8).268 Thus the song on the occasion of the victor’s present success revives the past glory of his oikos (ἐγεῖραι / καὶ παλαιὰν δόξαν ἑῶν προγόνων, P.9.104) and sustains it.269

The marriage metaphor and its effect on the preservation of the glory of victory also function within the framework of Pindar’s expressed expectations regarding the reperformance of his odes. He clearly expresses his anticipation of further audiences beyond the polis, namely Panhellenic audiences and/or future audiences (e.g.N .4.13-6,

N.5.1-5).270 So the victor’s fame is spread all over Greece and with it thekleos of his oikos (N.11.19-21, P.9.103-5) and his polis (N.5.8, N.3.12-3). The victory ode has a far larger audience to confirm and validate the victory. Thus the victor’skleos becomes greater because along with being infinite in time, the victory ode is nowpresented as infinite in space. This impacts at a fundamental level on the content of the victory ode.

268 Nagy (1990) 199-214. 269 Felson (2004) 386, cf. Carey (1981) ad 107-9, Instone (1996) ad 103-4, ad 105. 270 Morgan (1993) 11-3, cf. Carey (2007) 199, Morrison (2007) 12-3, 117-25 passim, Hubbard (2004) 72- 5. 79

The epinician ode generally avoids any unnecessary details of the first performance.271

On the contrary, it exhibits certain elements which are specific neither in time nor in space and which facilitate the Panhellenic reception of Pindar’s songs.272 Pindar’s choice and use of images from the realm of everyday-Greek pan experience is compatible with this larger tendency.273 The gamos metaphor is one of these timeless, indeed spaceless, elements.274 Because the essentials are largely Panhellenic, the gamos metaphor has a communicative value throughout Greece.275

In this context the wedding song helps Pindar to promulgate his odes in Greece. If we accept the current view of poetic genre as a kind of discourse, the wedding song as a form common across Greece is a sort of Greekkoine . The parallelism between Pindaric epinician and the wedding song facilitates the poet in getting the ode out to and understood in the Greek world.

This association falls within Pindar’s larger tendency to explore the boundaries between his victory ode and popular songs. These popular songs vary from work songs to the impromptu victory songs mentioned by Pindar at the beginning O of.9. 276 The latter were the established ways to celebrate the victory before Simonides and perhaps Ibycus wrote the first victory odes.277 As is clear fromO .9 these popular spontaneous songs

271 Cf. Morgan (1993) 11-15, Carey (2007) 210, Morrison (2007) 128-9. 272 Morrison (2007) 10, and especially 128-30, cf. Thomas (2007) 165-6. 273 Cf. Steiner (1986). 274 See Introduction, p. 16. 275 See p. 43. 276 Yatromanolakis (2009) esp. 267. 277 Barron (1984), Rawles (2012) esp.4-5 on popular songs for victory, and Rawles (2012) 6-27 on Ibycus and Simonides; cf. Robbins (1997) 244, OCD4 s.v. Simonides. 80 continued to co-exist with the commissioned epinician.278 This correlation of the bought ode with popular forms tacitly helps to sideline the commercial nature of the poet-patron relationship.

Yet Pindar’s relationship to the popular song culture is shifting; he associates and dissociates according to strategic need.279 Though the comparisons with the established popular songs form part of Pindar’s validation of his genre280 and his discourse of communal celebration, 281 on the other hand, he needs to dissociaterhetorically himself from it because he needs to accentuate thedistinctiveness of the bought ode as against the impromptu celebration.

Thus in Olympian 9 Pindar contrasts his own victory ode with the generic song for victories popularly ascribed to Archilochus which, in Pindar’s terms, was (just) sufficient for its occasion (ἄρκεσε, O.9.3).282 The developed victory ode is composed for a specific victor each time and it is able to spread his fame throughout GreeceO. (9.25, cf. O.9.5-8).283 Pindar’s care to distinguish his song from simpler forms, indicating its

278 Cf. Thomas (2007) 164-5, and in contrast Pelliccia (2009) 245-7. 279 Cf. Thomas (2007) 144-5, 150-2. See Thomas (2007) 1636- for a historical comparison between the epinician ode and the monuments in remembrance of the victory. Thomas there also mentions that statues and epinicians historically co-existed and there was a kind of cultural rivalry between them. The epinician did have some characteristics of the statue monuments but also had features which could guarantee immortal fame for the victor and his achievement. 280 The association with the popular form fits into a tendency to validate his ode as a long-established genre as he does at O.10.76-85 (Verdenius (1988) ad O.10.78) and N.8.51-3 (Race (1997b) 93 with fn.4). 281 Cf. Pelliccia (2009) 255-6, Carey (forthcoming 2013). See also above, on p. 74, my discussion on the chorus and the civic voice. 282 Cf. Kurke (1991) 201 and Morgan (1993) 3, 7-8, 11, 14. This was also done with the statue analogy at N.5.1-5 (cf. Thomas (2007) 144-5, 150-2). 283 Cf. Most (1985) 192-5. 81 superiority to them, underlines the unique effectiveness of the victory ode inthat it will survive and will secure an immortal kleos for the victor, his oikos and his polis.284

Nevertheless, in the case of wedding song Pindar never actually does distance himself.

The reason for this is perhaps that the wedding song does not offer any kind of competition to the Pindaric epinician; nor does the association threaten to diminish the commissioned ode, unlike the ‘song of Archilochus’. So, Pindar is free to exploit the usefulness of the wedding song as Panhellenic discourse and also exploit all aspects of the potential similarities.

This Panhellenic appeal of the ode has a further effect: The victor brings home hisdoxa , won at the Panhellenic games to his polis; but the song transmits that doxa to Hellas. As mentioned above,285 the audience is needed because they acknowledge and validate the transition, performing the reintegration of the victor inhisto community. The ode replicates that process of reception within a larger Greek audience. The ode thus offers something more valuable– across time – than the community’s validation.286 The immortal kleos that only the victory song can generate is what fully and definitely effects the transition to the new status once again.

6. Conclusion

284 Cf. Thomas (2007) 150-2, 163-6. 285 See above, pp. 64-5. 286 See pp. 77-8. 82

It will be clear– and unsurprising – that Pindar is not interested ingamos as an historical phenomenon. Some realities ofgamos as experienced in his world disappear from his presentation – specifically the business of negotiation f o match and dowry.

Pindar seems to be much more interested in those aspects of gamos that show its cultural and civic importance both for the individuals and the public. Pindar thus leads the audience to feel the victory as an affair if not their own, at least very much related to them. Then the need to accept the victor in the community becomes greater and the praise of the victor which Pindar makes reaches its target. Praise and victor get the approval of the community. And finally the victor achieves his transition to his telos, ensuring an undying kleos for himself, and significantly for his oikos and his polis.

Chapter 2: Gamos as telos in drama

1. Introduction

As we have seen both in the introduction and the previous chapter,287 marriage has pronounced connotations of fulfilment which embrace not only the individuals involved, but also their family and their society. Where for Pindar this becomes a dynamic model for representing and managing victory and its context and aftermath, in Athenian drama, to which I now turn, this notion of gamos and telos assumes a structuring role based on the larger functions we have discussed so far. Gamos in Greek drama varies from being a structural device which fulfils a largely formal role (Euripides) through being a closural device functioning in a larger framework of fulfilment and divine determinism

(Sophocles) to being the fulfilment of the individual and the conclusion of his successful pursuit of victory (Aristophanes) and finally to the organic and vital conclusion of a plot centred on marriage in Menander. This chapter explores the way in which this function of gamos as telos is performed in both tragedy and comedy.

Marriage is obviously at home in the happy and celebratory endings of comedy, but its positive social and emotional connotations might seem incompatible with tragedy.

Indeed, despite the fact that negative endings288 are not inevitable, statistically there is – and was – a strong tendency toward grim endings or indications of aeak bl future in tragedy. Marriage, then, as a recurrent – perhaps ideal – occasion for celebration in real

287 See especially pp. 21-5, 48-52. 288 ‘The bad end unhappily, the good unluckily. That is what tragedy means.’ (T. Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, act 2). 84 life, could be seen as inconsistent with tragic endings. And yet, as I will show, tragedy manages to employ it as telos very successfully.

Of all three surviving dramatic poets, Euripides is the one who mainly289 uses marriage as a closural feature, though marriage as ending also occurs, to a much lesser extent, in

Sophocles. In Euripides, it is regularly employed in the framework of the arrangements or predictions of the deus ex machina intervention at the end of several of his plays; it fits then within a larger formalistic tendency. However, this use of marriage as a closing moment varies in the degree of integration into the plot. Consequently the sense of resolution in turn varies considerably.In many cases the limited relevance to the plot development raises questions about the gap between formal closure and thematic, emotional or aesthetic closure. In Sophocles, marriage as ending has some similarities to

Euripides. Although marriage does not result directly from the plot in any Aristotelian sense, it is highly relevant to it. Furthermore, all of the tensions found in Euripides are there, though here they are an explicit presence. Nevertheless, this use of marriage as telos is more fully integrated thematically than any of Euripides’ examples. The tensions in play are creative: they allow the poet to underline the issues of divine and human knowledge which underpin the plot. More importantly,gamos as telos here has pronounced connotations of destiny and fulfilment. Thus, in Sophocles marriage is a telos in two ways. It is a telos in structural terms; but it is also a telos in that it has strong connotations of fulfilment, albeit not necessarily in ways perceptible to the participants.

289 It is used in quite different ways in Aeschylus, which I shall discuss in ch. 4, pp. 225-33.

In contrast to tragedy, the celebratory connotations of marriage made it easy for comedy to include it in its toolkit for endings. There is here a more organic aspect to the way in which gamos is deployed as a rounding off device in comedy than is generally the case in tragedy. Generally speaking, Aristophanes’ endings involve a change of status or a resolution of severe problems. More importantly for my present purposes in

Aristophanes, dance, celebration, sex, rejuvenation – including marriage as renewal – or other reward for the hero are frequent features of the conclusionAch ( . 1198-1234, Eq.

1331-1408, esp. 1331-6, 1390-1408, Lys. 1273-1321, Vesp. 1512-37, Thesm. 1112-83,

Plut. 1208-9). These are the embodiment the of hero’s victory, which has strong connotations of fulfilment of his existence as a human being. Occasionally this is eloquently articulated through his marriage at the end. As we shall see, marriage in

Aristophanic comedy is often tied with the idea of the sacred marriage, as well as with fertility, which enhance the implications of fulfilment. Therefore marriage here is a real telos for the victor. In comedy,then, the wedding is an important indicator of the success and the renewal of the comic hero and the (re)constitution of the larger civic or cosmic order.

Like Aristophanes, and indeed like Euripides, Menander is prone to end his plays with marriage. Since Menander invariably opts for romantic plots, unsurprisingly marriage is the telos of his plays, both structurally and thematically. Indeed, the use of marriage as ending achieves a fully organic resolution in Menander far beyond Aristophanes’ gamos. Menander also uses marriage as a social microcosm and a metaphor to discuss social issues, characters and behaviours.

2. Tragedy

The use of marriage as a closural device in tragedy is firmly rooted in its social importance. Yet, as in Pindar, this use of marriage presents a paradox. Whereas in other sources the notion of marriage as a kind of fulfilment is emphatically associated with the female, drama expands the focus of marriage as fulfilment to embrace males as well as females.290

As noted above, of the three surviving tragedians Euripides is distinctive for his recurrent use of marriage as an ending. Significantly, heuses gamos as telos in a place where Aeschylus and Sophocles had the opportunity to use marriage as conclusion but did not. I am referring here to the case of Electra’s marriage, which forms part of the conclusion in Euripides’ Electra, but not in the SophocleanElectra , nor in Aeschylus’

Choephori, which covers the same myth, although this marriage was already present in the mythical tradition. The first obvious reason for this differentiation on behalf of

Euripides is his wellattested- tendency (notorious already in his own day) toward domestication. Euripides pays special attention to the inner, domestic life of theoikos .

Moreover, Euripides is marked by a tendency to explore the boundaries of the tragic genre by using features of satyr drama and comedy, and marriage with its affinities with comic escapism was an area ripe for exploitation. Last, the deep-rootedness of marriage in collective experience makes it an ideal stabilizing mechanism in plays which otherwise destabilize myth, but more importantly it makes it a convenient component in the framework of Euripides’ well-known tendency toward formalism and stylized

290 See also my discussion in ch. 3, pp. 178-86, and also 201-7. 87 endings. In fact he shows a strong tendency to link marriage as an ending device with the deus ex machina.291 In this contextgamos frequently figures in command or prophecy and co-exists with highly formal aspects of Greek life such as cult and prophecy.

So, in Euripides, marriage begins to acquire the status of a stylized closural device, as one of a number of closural ploys. Yet its use is complicated. Naturally, marriage is not the result of a romantic storyline, as is the case with Menander (as we will see292). It is in fact rarely a logical result of the plot in an Aristotelian sense.293 Frequently it is imposed by an authoritative or authoritarian figure largely external to the action of the play. Even this intervention is ambiguous in itself: the text is often unclear as to whether marriage is being ordained or predicted. On the other hand, it is never simply superimposed as something completely extraneous but relates to themes in the . plot

Thus it often gives a kind of resolution, however fraught, ambiguous or limited, to tensions or irregularities of the play. This results in a complex effect; marriage provides a formal closure but with a number of complex issues left hanging. It thus often gives a

291 The frequency of this usage in the plays we have is not simply an accident of survival. Marriage as one of the arrangements of an intervening god in the conclusion of the play also appears in Euripides’ Erechtheus (combined with a cult, fr. 370.104),Anti ope fr. 223.100-2 and probably inMelanippe Desmotis (test. iib = F 496 N, cf. Collard, Cropp and Lee (1995) 244). (The numbers are based on Collard and Cropp (2008).) The deus ex machina device has certain characteristics. S/he is a figure in authority and his orders are always accepted (Dunn (1996) 35, 38). He does not belong organically to the action (Dunn (1996) 28, 41) and his intervention is formal (Dunn (1996) 41). He gives explanations for events past or future (Dunn (1996) 34). Often the speeches of thedeus ex machina serve as aetiology for specific cults (see Scullion (1999) 217-33 on the issue of invention and tradition in the cults introduced by thedeus ex machina). The deus ex machina also intervenes to prevent violence as inHelen , I.T., Antiope and Erechtheus (cf. Jouan (2000) 31). 292 See below, pp. 137-52. 293 A well-constructed plot for Aristotle needs to demonstrate coherence between its beginning, middle and ending. In other words the middle must result naturally from the beginning, andending the must result naturally from the middle (Poe.1450b23-1451a15, esp. 1450b23-33; cf. 1450a21-23).

88 pendant closure. The result is a framing device which paradoxically questions the possibility of framing in the real world as distinct from the stylized world of drama. I will firstly begin with the device of thedeus ex machina, which is used to generate the marriage endings.

a. The device

As a device, the deus ex machina is very convenient for Euripides. It allows him to bring the plot to an extreme crisis and then provide a resolution or change of direction to it.

Although external to the plot, the gods chosen are in some way associated with the characters. In Andromache, Thetis intervenes as thedea . As Peleus’ wife and

Neoptolemus’ grandmother, she cannot be considered as irrelevant to the storyAndr ( .

1231-34).294 In Orestes, Apollo appears asdeus ex machina to save Orestes from the impasse into which he has brought himself. His association with the events of the play and relationship to theoikos of the Atreids is evident from his (emphasized) role in authorizing the killing. In Electra, Castor and Pollux, relativesof Electra and Orestes, appear as the dei ex machina to offer consolation, explanations and imposition of divine will and punishment.295 In particular, it is Castor, already presented as Electra’s past suitor (Eur.El. 312-3), who speaks to the siblings (Eur.. 1238-El 1291, 1292-1359 passim).

294 Dunn (1996) 31. 295 Thury (1985) 20-21, 23.

In Trachiniae and Medea there is no literal divine intervention. Medea In , Medea appears on a crane above the roof in the manner of deaa ex machina296 in a scene of triumph over Jason.297 Medea gives the conclusion of the play. Jason gets his punishment from her lips Med ( . 1351-60, 1378-88).298 But Medea, like the other dei, also looks forward to (her) future. She will go to Athens Αἰγεῖ συνοικήσουσα (Med.

1385). The uncompromising manner in which she speaks and Jason’s inability to do anything against Medea and her announcements give her an authority which recalls that of a more traditional deus.299

In all the cases to be discussed below, marriage astelos is embedded in a context of divine authority, of a decisive, sudden, formal and unquestionable intervention in the midst of an impasse, and an oracular background or something almost like it. This last is very important because it is common both to Euripides’ tragedies and to Sophocles’. Not only does marriage as a ritual sit very well in such a divine,oracular context, which in turn gives a kind of solemnity to these endings and naturally to the marriage alliances arranged. More crucially it endows age marri with the element of fate, divine determinism, purpose. Thus it conveys a notion of completeness inherent in marriage.

It is important to note that in deus the ex machinaspeeches where the marriage arrangement is announced or predicted, this attribute of marriage astelos is never

296 The affinities that this scene has with deus the ex machina interventions have been explained sufficiently by Cunningham (1954) 152, 158 and very convincingly by Knox (1977)18 207 with- parallels. See also on the issue Mastronarde (1990) 264-66, Mossman (2011) ad 1317. 297 Easterling (1977) 190, Segal (1996) 41-42. 298 Cf. Mastronarde (2002) 33. 299 This is confirmed in that Jason cannot catch or reach her, as she is both scenically and in terms of power on a higher level than him (Med. 1320-22; Luschnig (1992a) 44, Mossman (2011) ad 1317).

90 spelled out explicitly. Yet its cultural importance for the survival of theoikos 300 and the recurrent centrality of the oikos to Greek tragedy mean that the issue of the fulfilment is an important part of the subtext of the plays. It is this dimension which provides the

‘positive’ aspect of the conclusion, in contrast to the tensions that are often contained in the marriage arrangement and in general in the conclusion.

b. Closural position and thematic relevance: marriage, and destruction and irregularities in the oikos

Despite the formalistic tendency noted above, marriage in Euripides is usually thematically related to the plays in which it appears as closure. In some cases it is at the centre of the plot and there it emerges entirely appropriately from the action. At the same time, the gap between formal closure on the one hand, and emotional and aesthetic closure on the other, raises problems which undermine the framing role of marriage.

In Andromache, marriage is deeply embedded in the thematic concerns of the play. The disorder in the oikos of Neoptolemus,301 generated by its structural irregularities, is one of the main problems of the play. Neoptolemus’ wife Hermione is in every sense a bad spouse, disrespectful to her husband and arrogant towards himAndr (. 209-12). She

300 See Introduction, pp. 20-1. 301 This element has been emphasized by Storey (1989) who argues for ‘domestic disharmony’ as a key motif in Andromache, and indeed many of the oikoi which are presented in Andromache are problematic, but the main interest is focused on the oikos of Neoptolemus. It is the problems of this particular oikos that engage the audience’s attention. The otheroikoi (Hector’s, Menelaus’ and Agamemnon’s, cf. Storey (1989) 18, 20-1, 21-2 accordingly) themselves are of less importance; they matter only in relation to Neoptolemus’ oikos. Even the problematic marriage of Peleus’ with Thetis forms an unhappy past for Neoptolemus’ oikos (cf. Storey (1989) 22-3).

91 knows very well that she is of higher birth and wealth (Andr. 209-12, cf. 152-3).302 She has never accepted or been accepted by her new family.303 It is not strange then that

Neoptolemus is presented as alienated (τατάῦ τοί σ’ ἔχθει πόσις, Andr. 212; πόσει

μισουμένην, Andr. 33).304 Peleus also dislikes both her and her family Andr( . 547-765, cf. also 209-12, 619-23).305 Her resentment and her sense of grievance and insecurity are very much the effect of her own unnatural position within her husband’soikos:

Neoptolemus maintains both a wife and a concubine, with the result that the wife considers the concubine a rival and a threat Andr( . 464-93, cf. 123-4, 909).306 Whether or not she is correct (and Andromache disagrees), this situation is an irregularity in itself. It is also the starting-point of the conflicts inAndromache , the beginning of the extreme events which set the oikos in turmoil. By the end of the play the problems in the relationships have created a fracturedoikos : the head of the family is dead. The wife,

Hermione, is gone.307 In the end, what remains in the ruins of oikos this is an unprotected illegitimate son, the father’s concubine and the old grandfather.

Thetis’ intervention goes some way to restoring theoikos . Although this is not her sole arrangement, the marriage between Andromache and Helenus, Hector’s brother, which she decrees, offers the eventualrestoration of the oikos, an oikos which has greatly suffered throughout the play.308 This will bring Neoptolemus’ son, who is not named

302 Kyriakou (1997) 10-12. She also prioritizes her natal over her marital oikos (Seaford (1990b) 166, 167- 8). 303 Philippo (1995) 361-2. 304 Storey (1989) 19. 305 Papadimitropoulos (2006) 156-7, Philippo (1995) 362. 306 Seaford (1990b) 151-53, 167-70, Philippo (1995) 361, Storey (1989) 19-20, Lloyd (1994) 3. 307 Cf. Mossman (1996) 153, Storey (1989) 17. 308 Cf. Lloyd (1994) ad 1245.

92 here, to Molossia (Andr. 1244), where Helenus had already been living (Apoll. 6.12-13).

Thus, he will be brought up in a ‘proper’ family as Neoptolemus’ legitimate heir and not merely as the son of a concubine. Eventually, when he comes of age he will be established in the kingship of the Molossians Andr( . 1247-49), which had been gained by his father before his death (Apoll. 6.12-13).309 This arrangement then achieves the continuation of the Aeacids.310

Yet, there is another dimension. The continuation of the Aeacids is to be achieved only in unison with the continuation of the Trojan royaloikos . Neoptolemus’ son was

Andromache’s too. She herself is identified more in relation to Troy than to Thebes in

Asia, her place of origin (cf.Andr . 4, 656, 908, 960).311 In addition, it appears that

Helenus will be King till Molossus reaches the age to become King. Molossus will then succeed Helenus, a Trojan king. So, Molossus, linked through his mother and his stepfather with the royal oikos of Troy will continue the Trojan line, too (Andr. 1249-51, cf. also κατοικῆσαι, Andr. 1244).312 Therefore, Andromache’s marriage becomes the instrument through which the survival of both oikoi is secured.313 Such an end also gives a resolution to Andromache’s problems, which had introduced the play Andr( . 1-765).

She has lost her protector, she is a slave and herown and her son’s livse have been threatened. She constantly looks back to her ‘ideal’ marriage to Hector. Now, with her

309 Cf. Apollodorus 6.12-13, cf. Lloyd (1994) ad 1243-52, ad 1245. 310 Apart from this important role that the marriage of Andromache has in the play, its significance is also illustrated through the effect it has on Peleus, as I will show in my main discussion. 311 Cf. Philippo (1995) 36970- . (This is a recurrent implication in the play through the references to Andromache’s previous situation.) 312 Cf. Philippo (1995) 370, Lloyd (1994) ad 1243-52, Storey (1989) 20. 313 Cf. Allan (2000) 81-82.

93 marriage to Helenus, her bond with the Trojan royal line andoikos is revived.314 Thus, this arrangement (Andr. 1245) means that Andromache is finally restored to Hector’s family and partially to her previous life.315

Apart from this strong link to the themes of the play, the role of marriage is crucial in that its associations with stability and continuity contribute to the positive tone of the ending. Through marriage most of the problems of the oikos, the lives of the individuals, and welfare and survival of theoikos are restored. Thus it offers an optimistic counterpoint in comparison to the turbulent events of the play. This is also true for

Peleus, who is the focus of the last part ofAndromache (Andr. 1047ff.) together with

(the corpse of) Neoptolemus (Andr. 1166ff., especially 1168).316 It is immediately after

Peleus’ lamentations Andr ( . 1173-1225) that Thetis intervenes. Peleus’ main worry when he sees the corpse of Neoptolemus is the extinction of hisoikos (Andr. 1176-80, cf. 1205-7).317 Andromache’s wedding is one of the arrangements which provides for the end of these concerns. This is how his oikos lives through the ages (Andr. 1249-51).

In addition, Peleus will become immortal (Andr. 1253-58). This seals the provisions for a better future for him. Significantly, Thetis stresses that he owes this development to his marriage with her (Andr. 1231-32, 1250, 1253; cf. 1258, συνοικήσεις may hint at a

‘new’ oikos with Thetis318).319 So, marriage, in more than one respect, acts to secure

314 Cf. Allan (2000) 81-2. 315 Allan (2000) 81-82. 316 Cf. Lloyd (1994) 5. Like Andromache and Hermione, he is in despair and feels hopeless (Lloyd (1994) 5). 317 Peleus’ focus is shared between lament for theoikos (Andr. 1176-80, 1186-87, 1189-92, 1205-07, 1216-17 (rather than for Neoptolemus)) and for Neoptolemus (Andr. 1181-83, 1189-92, 1193-96, 1200- 01, 1205-07, 1209-12). 318 Cf. Storey (1989) 20.

Peleus’ prosperity. Here then marriage forms a part of an idealized fictive world.

Everything seems stable at last, and there is a feeling of satisfaction in this closure.

Yet even in Andromache the dea ex machina solves only some of the irregularities in the oikos of Neoptolemus: Hermione and Orestes escape unpunished, at least as far as the plot allows us to judge. Nothing is mentioned about them. Neoptolemus is killed and his burial serves only as censure to Delphi’s lack of protection of innocent peopleAndr ( .

1241-42).320 Still, though marriage in Andromache falls short of full closure, this is the most complete resolution of all the marriage endings of Euripides.

The organic relation of marriage to the themes of the play is even stronger in Euripides’

Electra. Gamos is prominent here. Hera has a stark presence as protector of marriage at the beginning of the play, and the festival in her honour321 is central to the play. Even more important is the subversion of marriage, a theme that runs throughout the play.

This is evident in the general distortion of the purposes of marriage Electrain ,322 and mainly in the failedunion of Electra and theautourgos . Euripides invents here a marriage323 which socially marginalizes her: it is the medium for her exile from the

319 This marks an ironic contrast to Peleus’ previous censure of the marriage to ThetisAndr ( . 1186-87, 1219-20, cf. 1224-25). (Allan (2000) 81-82, cf. Storey (1989) 2021- on Thetis’ marriage and ‘domestic disharmony’.) 320 Andr. 1251-2 indicate that Thetis is sent by the gods to bring an order to people the gods care about. Thus, this line may imply that what is not provided for is not of interest to the gods. But when applying this to Neoptolemus’ case this would either mean that the gods werenot interested in that Neoptolemus should be dead and thus lines 127072- are in agreement with Thetis’ purpose of intervention or that the gods are not omnipotent; they cannot really arrange justice and help those that are in the right. This last now questions the success of the deus ex machina intervention or at least, it indicates that the role of the deus is not to resolve all problems and that the emotional effects are therefore mixed. 321 Cf. Zeitlin (1970) 651. 322 Zeitlin (1970) 665ff. 323 Zeitlin (1970) 650.

95 royal house and the loss of inheritance, wealth, home and family and high social position as royalty (see Eur..El 184-89),324 and even her status as woman.325 This perverted gamos reinforces the larger disrupted condition of theoikos .326 It was settled precisely to prevent the creation of a powerful oikos, as would happen if Electra married in accordance to her status (Eur.El. 19-24; cf. 25-8). The potential threatening offspring is thus pre-empted, as is the proper continuation of the line and oikos of Agamemnon.

This aberrant situation will be reversed at the close with the marriage of Electra to

Pylades which comes at last to protect Electra and restore her.327 Despite the initiatives of Orestes and Electra (Eur.El. 1190-1200), Castor’s arrangements and divine authority are the agent of relief to the disturbed psychic condition of Electra.328 Her marriage should provide her with a happy life, and release her from her miseries. She will now be properly taken care of (Eur.El. 1308-13, especially 1311). She will get all that a woman can expect in ancient Greece (cf. πόσις ἔστ’ αὐτῇ καὶ δόμος, Eur.El. 1311). Crucially, this new marriage is the worthy marriage for which she was so eager.329 This match will also provide her with the wealth Aegisthus and Clytemnestra had taken from her (δότω

πλούτου βάθος, Eur.El. 1287). Last but not least Pylades (Eur.El. 1249) is her brother’s best friend, the son of king Strophius. This means her return to the royal class and restoration to a high social status.

324 The citizens know about her present reduced circumstances and pity her (Eur.El. 118-19); cf. Chong- Gossard (2003) 216. 325 For a full analysis of the social exclusion of Electra and her marriage see ch. 3, pp. 163-5, 186-9. 326 See on this issue, ch. 3, pp. 194-5. 327 Cf. Gärtner (2005) 27-28 for the idea of foil in a different context. 328 Thury (1985) 6-7, Gärtner (2005) 25-26. 329 Gärtner (2005) 25-26, cf. Thury (1985) 6-8, 20-22, especially 6-7 and 21.

Yet, marriage offers resolution only in part. Unlike Andromache, the structural problems of the oikos are not to be solved here.330 The survival of the oikos is not provided for.

Orestes’ marriage to Hermione, which would secure the desired continuation of the oikos, is not mentioned. Thus, the play may suggest that there is no safe future for this oikos and its suffering will be perpetuated, just as its crimes have been repeated in this play.

The positive aspects of the conclusion, including the felicity which Electra’s union to

Pylades would have brought, are also undermined by the imminent separation of Orestes and Electra. This is emphatically illustrated through their reactions: any joy for Electra is overpowered by her separation from Orestes (Eur..El 1308ff., esp. 1321-34, 1339).

Thus, in Euripides’ Electra, even in the fictive world in which it belongs, marriage fails to achieve the full state of happiness that was culturally expected to generate. Yet, there is a good reason for the absence of resolution. Orestes and Electra have committed a terrible crime and they have to pay.

Orestes is a play where marriage arrangements again seem to be related to the plot, but at the same time are remarkably disconcerting. Despite the incongruities of the marriage

(which I explore below), the road to this final development is well prepared thematically. The main thematic issue in which the marriage in the end is embedded is once more the structural irregularities of theoikos of the Atreids. Orestes presents an oikos with severe problems (cf.Or . 982-1012), burdened by a history of criminality stretching back into the past and threatened with extinction in the present as a result of

330 Mossman (2001) 377, 380, 383.

Orestes’ violence.331 It continues on its path to destruction, repeatingthe errors of previous generations. The fault is not Tantalus’, as in the original myth (cf.Or . 1-10,

345-47, 986).332 It is Pelops’ ingratitude to Myrtilus, lack of reciprocity ofcharis (Or.

982-96).333 This is replicated by Menelaus; he fails in his dutyof recompensing the charis due to Orestes when the latter is under threat; this obligation of Menelaus’ is owed on the basis of his debt to Agamemnon, who helped him get his wife backOr .(

642-43, 646-57, 651; cf. 243-44).334 Menelaus thus re-enacts the ancestral sin and leads the oikos to the brink of annihilation.335 This dismemberment of theoikos is visually enacted in the fire which is about to be set loose on the building of the oikos (Or. 1618-

20).336 Apollo’s intervention and the marriage with Menelaus’ daughter dramatically defuse this crisis, creating the missing reciprocity between Menelaus and Orestes (cf.

Or. 1672, 1675-77).337

From some angles this marriage seems to be a satisfactory one, although it is doubtful whether the audience could ever think of it as such.338 Orestes takes a good wife, the model parthenos. Thus finally the last male descendant will continue thisoikos through his marriage and new family.339 Another settlement which contributes to a certain establishment of reciprocity and order is Electra’s marriage to Pylades. This is largely

331 Kyriakou (1998) 287. 332 Kyriakou (1998) 287-88, cf. 292-93. 333 Kyriakou (1998) 291-92. 334 Kyriakou (1998) 283-4, Konstan (2000) 51-52. 335 Kyriakou (1998) 297. Menelaus is constantly criticized for his behaviour (e.g.Or . 628, 652, 665-68, 718-20, 794) (Konstan (2000) 52). On the parallel between Menelaus and Pelops, see Kyriakou (1998). 336 Dunn (1996) 172. 337 Willink (1986) ad 1643-59, cf. Dunn (1996) 159-61. 338 Synodinou (1988) 308, cf. West (1987) 35. 339 Kyriakou (1998) 282, 287, 297, cf. Lefkowitz (2002) 52-53.

98 due to the nature of this alliance, which occurs in a manner familiar to the Athenians and very much like their marriage practices. Orestes gives his sister to hisphilos .340 This is the most desired (Or. 1078-81) marriage of all three provided for by Apollo.

More importantly, Electra’s preoccupation and concerns with the issue of her marriage, already pronounced in the play, are now accommodated. It is she in particular who has expressed her agony regarding marriage: she feared that she will not havea family and children and thus will not fulfil her destiny a aswoman (Or. 206-7).341 Apollo’s arrangement (Or. 1658-59) ends this anxiety.342

Thus, all characters are provided for through marriage, among other arrangements. All of them, Orestes, Electra, Pylades andHermione, are settled in Greek cultural terms.

The marriage for Menelaus is not a certain fact of the plot, but with so much marriage in the immediate context the case for the authenticity of the disputed lineOr . 1638, which refers to it, becomes a little stronger343. So, Menelaus has a chance for a second marriage in place of the wife he lost ([Or. 1638]). This last arrangement in tying up the

340 Pylades has proved himself a real philos to Orestes, in contrast to Menelaus, who was his relative after all and did not help as he should (Konstan (2000) 51-52, 54-55: according to Aristotle’s Rhet. 1386a18-23 philia is what is required from a relative– here Menelaus – and not eleos.). Both Pylades and Menelaus are contrasted in the text with the wordphilia in reference to Orestes Or ( . 717-28, 804-06) (Willink (1986) p. xliv). Of these two Orestes does not find support inside his family but outside it (Konstan (2000) 55). 341 Synodinou (1988) 307-08. 342 Cf. in contrast Synodinou (1988) 317 with reference to Schein (1975) 54. 343 The severe structural problems (structure, succinctness, causality and notional connection) make it evident that there are problems in the textual transmission. The lack of an ‘unsignalled address to Menelaus’ –at least– shows that if it is genuine, there may be some lines lacking (Willink (1986) ad 1638- 42, cf. Manuwald and Manuwald (1994-95) 95). Yet, this is not enoughreason to deduce that the line is not genuine. The best discussion till now can be found at Manuwald and Manuwald (199495)- 93-96; see also Willink (1986) ad 1638-42.

99 last loose end gives the impression– if the lines are genuine– that the closure is complete.

However, despite this organic relation and the impression that order is reconstituted, these alliances, especially for Electra and Orestes, are inherently flawed and largely unsatisfactory.344 First and foremost, Orestes’ marriage is introduced very abruptly and is at odds with the development of the play so far. Not only has there been nothing to lead us to expect such a change of direction in the plot,345 but also Orestes was about to kill Hermione only minutes earlier. Yet, Orestes has to take his victimto- -be as wife.346

This last grim absurdity is underlined by the staging: Apollo says clearly that Orestes still has his sword on HermioneOr . ( 1653-4).347 This is then a deeply defective marriage.

Moreover, Orestes is on poisonous terms with her father. The deeper grounds for enmity are not addressed. Even though Menelaus gives his formal approval, at a personal level this alliance seems implausible. Orestes and Menelaus do not seem to regret or reconsider their previous attitude to each other. This kinship may have been hypothetically possible in a world of arranged marriages but in theatrical terms it is emotionally unsatisfactory for all concerned. The marriage to Hermione cannot really

344 I would like to note here that there areelements in Orestes which have been regarded as comic (cf. Dunn (1989)). This could perhaps be taken to relieve any negative implication in the conclusion. Nevertheless, though marriage figures as part of what has been regarded a comically happy resolution, the comic features are not so extensive as to erase the impression made by the cynical violence of the central figures nor the ironies that it generates (cf. Roberts (2005) 143, 146; cf. also Dunn (1989) 2379,- 248-51 on the mixed tone of Orestes (contrast Gregory (2005a) 265-7). 345 Dunn (1996) 160-1, 170-1, Lefkowitz (2002) 46-8, Kovacs (2002) 277. 346 Dunn (1996) 160-1, 170-1, Lefkowitz (2002) 46-8, Kovacs (2002) 277. 347 Dunn (1996) 160-61.

100 solve the tensions of this blightedoikos . It is rather forced,348 conceivable only in a world which admits of direct divine intervention and created only to bring reconciliation and save the oikos.349 Yet, even within this fictive world marriage seems to work only on the surface. The impasse does not seem to be resolved, but confirmed.350 The situation is exacerbated by the fact that the audience see Orestes walk away unscathed from his second (attempted) homicide. And because the crisis in theoikos is closely connected with the crisis in the polis, neither realm returns to a real restitution of order, but only to a superficial one. Formal closure is at odds with the myth it closes.

There is arguably less of a problem with Electra’s marriage to Pylades. Yet even here the viewer may query the desirability of the match in view of Electra’s character.

Pylades has condemned the baseness of character in women (e.g.Or . 1134-36, 923-25).

Electra on the other hand has done too much evil here.351 Nevertheless, if Electra is an unattractive character, so, too, in important respects is Pylades. Pylades was not just an assistant but an active conspirator in murder and mayhem (cf.Or . 787).352 In a sense they deserve each other. Electra and Pylades display a kind ofhomophrosyne (viewed by Odysseus and Pindar as the bedrock of a good marriage353) and thus provide a suitable match the one for the other. Yet, the homophrosyne consists in a shared capacity

348 Cf. Kovacs (2002) 278. 349 Willink (1986) ad 1643-59. 350 Dunn (1996)170-71. 351 Electra is portrayed in a negative light. Her actions prove her to be as bad as Helen or Clytemnestra. Electra’s own criticism of their actions may be used against herself and makes her situation worse (Synodinou (1988) esp. 307-9, 315, 319-20). Especially Electra’s eager contribution to the plans against innocent Hermione underlines the baseness of her character (cf. Synodinou (1988) 313-14). However, the chorus feel sympathetic towards her; this impacts on the audience’s attitude (West (1987)-34, 33 Kyriakou (1998) 286). 352 Nisetich (1986) 50, 53, Synodinou (1988) 312. 353 See pp. 67-9 and also ch. 5 passim. 101 for indiscriminate violence. This means that, if in Orestes the impasse remains unsolved, this is in accordance with the play’s dramatic momentum. All of the main characters are deeply corrupt and this wickedness is inextricably linked with the crisis confirmed in the closure.

But the most disconcerting preannounced marriage is the one inMedea . The conclusion of the play is offered by Medea ex machina. Here the situation is rather elusive. There is a marriage: Medea’s to Aegeus, hinted at with the word συνοικήσουσα (Med. 1385).

This participle contains connotations of marriage,354 since this word is the technical term for being married.355

Speaking in terms of thematic relevance it is true that there is nothing in the play that immediately and directly leads to this marriage. Yet, this tragedy is engaged very much with matrimony. Medea’s failed marriage is one of the central themes and an important thread of the plot356 in that it is very closely associated with the destructive events in this tragedy. It transforms Medea from victim to aggressor and leads her to retaliate for

Jason’s trespass of their marriage by destroying his wedding with Glauce and the offspring of her own marriage with Jason. So despite the fact that this is a very brief allusion, its load is immense and it is an arrangement of critical importance.

354 Cf. Mastronarde (2002) ad 1385. Even if he is wrong the idea of marriage is enclosed in this word. The audience know the myth of Medea, Aegeus and Jason (cf. Sfyroeras (1994-95) 127). Any reference to Medea at the oikos of Aegeus would have provoked the remembrance of her marriage to Aegeus and her behaviour in this frame. Of course Aegeus is already marriedMed ( .673). Immediate or future, meaning strictly the marriage or hinting at it, Medea’s role in the oikos of Aegeus will at some time be that of wife. 355 Its use for populations living in the same cityLSJ ( , s.v.) cannot be applied here. This significance is collective. 356 See for instance, Med. 17-36, 160-65, 1354-57, 1388, cf. 1366.

102

At first glance it seems that Medea, who destroyed everyoikos 357 she was a member of, found a refuge and will go unscathed.358 Yet, the dramatic irony behind the marriage implied in her announcement undermines the impression of a complete successor f

Medea in this play for those alert to the ending of her story in 359 myth. Med. 1385 actually contains a bleak implication regarding Medea’s future. To begin with, this marriage with Aegeus is by no means a good one; it lies on rotten foundations and stems from a violated philia (Med. 663-823): she hides things from him, traps and deceives him.360 Moreover the word συνοικήσουσα encloses two negative aspects. She will pose a threat to Theseus and through him to Aegeus’oikos , as she has also annihilated

Jason’s oikos.361 More importantly, in her attempt to harm theoikos of her future husband she will destroy herself in that she will again have to go into362 exile.

Nevertheless, this time her plans will not succeed according to the myth.363 Thus in a way Medea gets her punishment too.364 Therefore, the implications of marriage in

Medea work in a negative manner. Though they seem triumphalist, instead of securing happiness and prosperity, they undermine the optimism of Medea for her future. The

357 She, too, has no oikos (Med. 255-58, cf. 166-67). 358 Cf. Segal (1996) 41-42, Mastronarde (2002) 32-33. 359 Mossman (2011) ad 1385; cf. Mossman (2011) 30. 360 Mastronarde (2002) 31, ad 663-823, Segal (1996) 62-64, Mossman (2011) 30. See also Med. 824-65. 361 Sfyroeras (1994-95) 126, 139-40, Mastronarde (2002) 54-55, ad 664-823, Mossman (2011) ad 1385; cf. Easterling (1977) 187. Jason’s loss of oikos is mentioned at Med. 114, 130, 138-9, 562, 597, 608, 794, 1259, cf. 487, 502 (Cunningham (1954) 154). See also Segal (1996) 41-42, Knox (1977) 208. The threat she poses at Aegeus’ oikos may be also implied at Med. 717-18: πάυσω γέ σ’ ὄ ντ’ ἄπαιδα καὶ παίδων γονὰς / σπεῖραί σε θήσω˙ τοιάδ’ ο ἷδα φάρμακα. These lines can be interpreted in three ways. Either Medea lies once again or she means the child, Medus, whom she will physically bear to Aegeus, or she refers to the tricks which she will use against his own child Theseus (cf. Sfyroeras (1994-95) 128-30). 362 Easterling (1977) 191. 363 Cf. Sfyroeras (1994-95) 127. 364 Cf. in contrast Mastronarde (2002) 32-33.

103 end brings no relief but only shows two traumatized and guilty people and also a threat for another oikos.365

Marriage then frequently appears in the plays’ conclusions as unable in itself to give full closure. It cannot undo actions or events already done, it cannot cancel deaths or change characters and mentalities. What marriage astelos can do is fix the problems directly associated with it: the perversion and structural irregularities in theoikos which figure throughout the play and devastate the lives of the characters. Order inoikos the is restored because marriage sets up anotheroikos with one of the members of the destroyed oikos, a new one ideally with no problems. Even more because the marriage usually concerns a royal oikos this has an impact on polis the and offers a reestablishment of order in it. This effect is enhanced by theest r of the actions to be taken and ordered by thedeus ex machina. But this is as much as a new marriage arrangement in the end can achieve. Marriage then does not have the capacity to resolve all the issues of the play.

c. Remarriage as closure

It would not be appropriate to conclude our discussion of marriage as a closural device without some mention of ‘remarriage’, i.e. restored marriage, in Euripides’Alcestis and

Helen. Although these plays end with reunion, not marriage in a purely literal sense, the text invites us to regard this as a -remarriage enacted as wedding. They can therefore

365 Mastronarde (2002) 34, Sfyroeras (1994-95) 139-40, Segal (1996) 42; cf. Mossman (2011) 30. On the mixed reaction generated by the conclusion see Mossman (2011) 48.

104 legitimately be considered as variations on the formal closures treated in my previous discussion. However, remarriage functions in a decidedly different way from what we have seen so far in Euripides. In particular, firstly, these-marriages re are more obviously central to the plot. Alsothey are not overshadowed by any gloomy context, which could undermine the elation of the reunion. Instead, these are unambiguously happy conclusions. Thirdly, they are the focal event of the closure in that these reunions are not narrated or predicted but enacted in front of the audience in the form of wedding ritual.

To begin with their origin from the plot, these tragedies not only have marriage as one of their themes; they further make it a major aspect of the plotline.Alcestis In , the central issue and plotline is the sacrifice of Alcestis for her husband. Her devotion and self-sacrifice as a wife is praised throughout the play. Marriage also features in prospect or retrospect: for example Alcestis remembers her own wedding atAlc . 248-49, or asks

Admetus not to remarry at Alc. 304ff. (cf. Alc. 328-68, 371-73, 412-14, 460-62, 463-6,

470-74, 577, 612, 734, 84042,- 878-88, for instance). Also, inAlcestis the comparison between the marital and theparental relationship regarding their strength and value is explored as a theme. Alcestis sacrifices herself for Admetus, something which his natal family, his parents, could not.

Helen is also about a pair unwillingly separated.366 Helen’s devotion to her husband and especially her need of him are stressed right from the beginning. Among the main events in the play are their first recognition and reunion. The latter however is threatened and

366 Cf. Dunn (1996) 134.

105 may not be permanent due to an unwanted marriage. Marriage is everywhere; it is even involved in their trick on Theoclymenus, where she promises that she will marry him.

In Helen however the case is slightly different from Alcestis. The reunion is made secure in the deus’ speech, but this is not the sole concern of his arrangements; the focus is shared between provision for TheonoeHel . ( 1647-9, 16567)- and Helen’s and

Menelaus’ marriage and their future after deathHel (. 1646, [1650]-[1655], 1658-9,

1662-79). Nevertheless, Helen and Menelaus dominate the conclusion in that their joint escape from Egypt to Sparta is part of the staging.

In Alcestis this notion of a re-marriage, not merely a reunion, is created by the use of standard motifs of an Athenian wedding in the final scene, a scene with deep irony: the agreement between the woman’s kyrios and the future husband (Alc. 1025-29, 1035-36), the unveiling of the girl (she is unveiled at Alc. 1123), the joining of hands (Alc. 1115ff., cf. 1113), the procession and reception in the new houseAlc (. 1011-22).367 In Helen certain patterns of the Spartan wedding ritual are repeated. After the recall of Helen’s first marriage (Hel. 638-43, 72225),- she and Menelaus have disguisedheir t reconciliation as a funeral. In this framework, Menelaus is going to abduct the bride, whose hair is cut short, in the way marriage rites were enacted in 368 Sparta. This presents Helen as a typical Spartan bride abducted by her bridegroom.

367 Halleran (1988) 124-29, Rehm (1994) 89, Parker (2007) ad 1112, ad 1113, ad 1119-20. 368 Foley (2001) 312.

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In both plays marriage ritual is conflated (as often in tragedy) with death ritual.369 In

Alcestis, although the wedding ritual and its feast are virtually enacted in front of the eyes of the audience and cover a substantial number of lines in the conclusionAlc. (

1108-1158), the element of death is starkly present there. Not only does Alcestis come back from death, but she still retains this status even though she participates in her

‘wedding’. She does not speak throughout the wedding ritual, nor before. This is important enough to be pronounced by Heracles:

οὔπω θέμις σοι τῆσδε προσφωνημάτων

κλύειν, πρὶν ἂν θεοῖσι τοῖσι νερτέροις

ἀφαγνίσηται καὶ τρίτον μόλῃ φάος (Alc. 1144-6).

Alcestis is thus placed between her death and her new life. Wedding and funeral are present at the same time. To some degree the conflation arises naturally from the plot itself, since Alcestis is brought back from her death.370 This also applies to Helen.371 As we saw, Helen and Menelaus devise a funeral rite and disguise their ‘elopement’ as such

(Hel. 638-43, 722-25). But the parallel of the remarriage pattern withAlcestis suggests that this combination of wedding and death is not mere coincidence and there is more to it.

This conflation of marriage and death rituals in the remarriage endings is used to illustrate the transition from the past to a new happier life.372 Since it combines both the past with its unhappy events and the future, it then absorbs and replaces the past with the

369 For a thorough discussion of this issue, see Rehm (1994). 370 Rehm (1994) 89-96. 371 Rehm (1994) 123-7. 372 Cf. in contrast Rehm (1994) 126. 107 bright notes for a better future which conclude the play. The elimination of a past life and the transition to a new one is also central to the mourning which is expressed in the epithalamion.373 This is crucial in bothHelen and Alcestis because the past life was dominated by mourning, despair and death, especially for Helen and Admetus but also for Alcestis. The use of wedding ritual seals this passage from the past status full of misery to the new life which inaugurates happiness for them. Admetus explicitly speaks of the felicity of a better ‘new’ life, distinct fromeir previous th one: νῦν γὰρ

μεθηρμόσμεσθα βελτίω βίον / τοῦ πρόσθεν˙ οὐ γὰρ εὐτυχῶν ἀρνήσομαι (Alc. 1157-8).

In Helen, there is more in prospect than lifelong happiness. Menelaus’ and Helen’s prosperity transcends the limits of mortal lifeand reaches their afterlife: Helen will become a goddess and Menelaus will live in the Island of the Blessed (Hel. 1666-1678).

Finally, I argue that the effectiveness of marriage as ending in these two plays is facilitated by the presence in the plays of humorous or lightermoments.374 These contribute to a smooth transition to marriage as the happy conclusion.375 In general terms the use of marriage as finale is more characteristic of comedy, where (as we shall see) marriage is regularly used for closing celebration376. The fact then that these are plays whose content is not exclusively tragic is closely correlated with the use of marriage as a blissful epilogue.

373 Cf. Seaford (1987) 113, Badnall (2008) 17, 18, 22, 24-5. Cf. also Introduction, pp. 19-20. 374 Cf. Mastronarde (1999-2000) 28-29. 375 For this idea of preparation, see Lloyd (1985) 129, Dunn (1996)133-34. 376 See below ch. 2, pp. 115-37. 108

For Alcestis these are characteristics which arise directly from its status as ‘prosatyric’, in that it occupies the position normally occupied by a satyr play.377 These are Heracles who is inebriated at Alc. 773, the dialogue between him and the servant when Heracles discovers Admetus’ lie, Apollo’s trick with the fates, the associations between the plot and fairy-tales, Death as dramatis persona and the happy resolution.378 The tragic status of both plays has understandably been queried.379 Nonetheless, both are tragedies both in form and in theme, since they address serious ethical and existential issues. Their lighter elements then rather point to a degree of playing with genre limits, than undermining their status as tragedies.380 But they also contribute to an atmosphere which is less grave than in other tragedies and which leaves room for celebrations and emotions in the conclusion not so suitable to the solemnity of most tragic endings.

d. Gamos as telos in Sophocles

Marriage is rarely used in Euripides’ predecessors as a structural device, to judge from the surviving corpus.381 Nevertheless marriage as telos has a prominent role in the

377 See Marshall (2000) and also Parker (2007) pp. xx-xxiii. 378 Marshall (2000) 234, Parker (2007)pp. xxi-xxiii. I do not mean that the features in question specifically reflect the influence of the satyr-play, merely that they are tonally befitting for a satyr play. Likewise those features regarded as comic in Helen are not derived from comedy – Euripides predates and even helps to shape the comedy form in question –but potentially at home there (Cf. Mastronarde (1999- 2000) 34-35). 379 See Marshall (2000) and also Parker (2007) pp. xx-xxiii. 380 In Helen, for instance, these elements were those which were claimed to originate from comedy or appear as melodramatic, to speak in anachronistic terms. There was no genre as such for Helen: the exotic landscape, the evil master of the place, the couple who are devoted to each other but are separated and the happy resolution; also the devices of recognition, intriguing plans, supplication and escape (Allan (2008) 36, 68-69). 381 Aeschylus uses the cult of Eumenides, a cult embracing human marriage as well, as an end in his Oresteia, but this use is substantially different from the rest of the Greek drama corpus and so I will not discuss it here. On this, see ch. 4, pp. 225-33.

109

Trachiniae. Sophocles treats marriage in a manner which bears many affinities with

Euripides, but is at the same time radically different from it. The similarities lie in the use of the device of deus ex machina and also in the tensions inherentin the ‘marriage arrangement’. Yet, in the case of theTrachiniae , Sophocles makes a profound use of these tensions which is not to be met elsewhere, as I will argue below.

To begin with, as in Euripides, marriage telos as is placed in the context of the arrangements made by a figure suggestive of adeus -ex-machina. Although Heracles is not a god and, unlike dei ex machina, he is not a figure outside the action,382 he assumes some of the main characteristics of adeus ex machina in the play, in a similar way to

Medea in Euripides. This is an attempt authorized by the gods to put an– even partial – end to the unresolved issues of the plot.383

Heracles acquires this power through his implied capacity to understandthe divine will through oracles.384 Immediately after Hyllus has mentioned Nessus, he recognizes the prediction of the θέσφατα (θεσφάτων, Trach. 1150) relevant to present calamities

(Trach. 1149-50). Moreover, Heracles’ orders on his death and Iole’s marriage are framed by the oracles on his fate and often use a language of divine determinism which hints at a superior force and necessity, both of which suggest a larger divine perspective

382 Cf. in contrast Dunn (1996) 41. 383 Dunn (1996) 34-5, Davies (1991) pp. xix, xx. 384 It has even been suggested that he sought his relatives before his death, because he knew precisely and wanted to reveal this divine dimension (cf. Goward (2004) [43], cf., however, on the subject Goldhill (2012) 15-16). I do not think that this can be stated with certainty.

110 beyond these arrangements.385 Heracles appears to have acquired the late knowledge which is a prominent motif in theTrachiniae .386 He has understood the oracles387 and the prophecies given to him Trach( . 1145, 1150, 1159-1173, 1275-8), at least to some extent; his language hints at the divine origin of his orders to HyllusTrach ( . 1246).388

Thus Heracles, hard as he undoubtedly is and selfish though he seems,389 is also an authoritative figure,390 but equally importantly a decisive character who acts upon some unspecified knowledge.391

Again, as in Euripides, although the marriage is not the natural result of the plot, it has an obvious relevance to the issues of the play. In Trachiniae, marriage is a major theme, aberrances in this realm and specifically the devastation of orderin Heracles’ oikos.392

Heracles’ marriage to Deianeira is transgressed.393 The most important subversion is the replacement of Deianeira with another bride. This is underlinedn i the marriage ode

(Trach. 205ff.): the bridegroom to be received back brings a second wife.394 But marital

385 Easterling (1982) 10, Goward (2004) [41]. Thisger lar divine perspective is also suggested by Heracles’ speech and words after he has come to understand the oraclesTrach ( . 1159, 1169ff.) (Goward (2004) [43]). This is reinforced by the vocabulary of obligatory action and obedience: χρή, Trach. 1193; δραστέ’(α), Trach. 1204, cf. also 1777-78); by the reference to Zeus’ oak, the prohibition of lamentations (Trach. 1198f., 1208-09); by the strange declaration that the death on the pyre will relieve Heracles (Trach. 1255-56, 1263-64, 1270, 1272) (Goward (2004) [43]-[44]). This is finally sealed by the last line: κοὐδὲν τούτων ὅ τι μὴ Ζεύς (Trach.1278): everything, not only Heracles’ orders. This kind of death for Heracles, then, is part of the course of the mysterious fulfilment of Zeus’ will (Easterling (1982) 10). 386 Easterling (1982) 6, 8, Davies (1991) p. xix. 387 Dunn (1996) 34. 388 Segal (1981) 103. 389 Segal (1981) 103 and fn. 126, 107, Segal (1995) 90. 390 Segal (1981) 107. 391 The divine perspective in his orders is implied when he invokes the gods to prove that his demands are just (Trach. 1247-50). Perhaps this is also suggested by Trach. 1185, 1188, 1239-40, 1246. 392 Segal (1995) 69-94 on marriage and its perversion in the Trachiniae, esp. 69-70. 393 Segal (1981) 74-7. 394 Easterling (1982) 5-6, cf. Seaford (1986) 56-7.

111 aberrance is also illustrated by other distortions of marriage and marriage ritual in the play:395 Deianeira’s wedding is succeeded by fear instead of the usual after-wedding joy

(Trach. 1-51, 104ff., 551).396 The marriage symbols themselves are irregularly used and the vocabulary used for marriage is ambiguous.397 There is a subversion of marriage ritual in Deianeira’s death scene: she dies on her weddingpeplos and bed Trach ( .

915ff.). Lastly, at a first glance, the concluding marriage arrangement between Hyllus and Iole is in itself of a distorted nature: in emotional terms it is self-subverting, as he does not want her (especially Trach. 1217ff.). This marriage is arranged contrary to all

Greek practices of forming a marriage. The peculiar way in which Heracles obtained

Iole and now passes her to his son, because ‘he has already had her in bed and wants no other man to possess her’,398 as well as the resistance of the latter make this marriage inherently flawed. Thus, thematically, it is linked with the larger perversion of marriage in the play.

More importantly, marriage has an organic role in the ultimate restoration of order in

Heracles’ oikos. Although, as we have seen, the marriage between Hyllus and Iole is problematic, it may have a further, deeper meaning. To the viewer or reader, armed with historical hindsight, a larger divine purpose is underlying in the conclusion; there are hints that beyond this distorted marriage there is a glorious future for Heracles’oikos : this matrimony will be the foundation of the Dorian race;399 a successive oikos is created

395 Cf. also 497-530, 563 for marriage as theme. On the subversion of wedding ritual see Seaford (1986). 396 For this suggestion, Seaford (1986) 54-5, cf. Segal (1995) 69-73. 397 Segal (1981) 75-6, cf. also Easterling (1982) ad 1124 and Segal (1995) 85-7. 398 Segal (1995) 86; cf. Easterling (1982) 5-6, cf. Easterling (1982) ad 1138-9, ad 1179-1258, ad 1218. 399 Cf. Segal (1981) 82.

112 to compensate for that destroyed.400 This is not explicitly stated in the play but effected through dramatic irony. The marriage is not only closely related to the themes of the play, but adds an important dimension to it.

Unsurprisingly in view of our previous discussion of thedeus ex machina, there are strong tensions in the arrangements made. Yetthese are here explicit in a more pronounced manner than in Euripides. Although this ‘intervention’ is accepted by the person concerned, namely Hyllus Trach ( . 1230-51, passim, especially 1246-51), his strong objections are uncommon for thedeus ex machina interventions, as far as we have seen. This naturally reflects the unconventional nature of the deus‘ ’ figure, but the fact remains that this is the most unwanted of all marriage arrangements in the conclusions of tragedy. Hyllus does not want Iole, whom he regards as the reason for his mother’s death and his father’s sufferings Trach( . 1233-7), and it is probable that she would not want him either. The nearest Euripidean parallel is Orestes and Hermione.

Heracles’ arrangements are not to bring about comfort and relief to the people concerned.401 Thus, as in Euripides, this gives the impression of an incomplete resolution and it may raise other issues, as serious as those it seeks to solve.402

The role of marriage as telos, however problematic, is closely linked thematically to the plot.403 Indeed, telos is an undercurrent in the Trachiniae as a whole, especially visible

400 Segal (1981) 102, 108, Segal (1995) 92. 401 Cf. Nicolai (1990) 33. 402 Cf. Roberts (2005) 143, 145-6; on the ambiguity of endings in tragedy, see Roberts (2005) 143, 147-8. 403 Cf. Segal (1995) 71, 72. 113 in the conclusion.404 Marriage is used in this larger framework. Yet, it combines different aspects of fulfilment and crucially the personal element is completely absent in this case. Marriage is not here to provide for fulfilment in the form of individual happiness for the people involved, but for fulfilment in terms of fate and destiny and on a collective level.405

Telos for Heracles is prominent in the last scene of the play.406 The teleuta of Heracles’ life was preannounced in the beginning (Trach. 79-81, 167) and is resumed and revealed in the end through the oracles.407 Telos here concerns both Heracles’ death and his

‘ritual initiation into a new tate’ s 408, both of which function as ‘the fulfilment of a divinely appointed end’.409 Hyllus’ marriage functions in the framework of this larger telos for Heracles. The fulfilment of Heracles will comethrough the subsequent generations of the Dorian race inaugurated by the marriage of Hyllus and Iole.410

The tensions in the marriage arrangement serve also to articulate a most important issue of the play: the achievement of knowledge, the gap between mortality and divinity which humans try to bridge by struggling to achieve knowledge and civilization. This is

404 Goldhill (2012) 1517,- 23, 25. The strong oracular background in the play illustrated both in the beginning (Trach. 76-81, 164-70; cf. Trach. 46-8) as well as atthe end Trach ( . 1159-63, 1169-73) (Bowman (1999) 340-1) underscores the notions of fulfilment; there is also an emphasis onoracles and prophecy both in the unauthorized way of Nessus’ guidelines to DeianeiraTrach ( . 568-77; cf. 680-8) as well as in the authorized oracles of Zeus (Bowman (1999) 335-48). 405 Cf. Goldhill (2012) 15-17, 23, 25. 406 Goldhill (2012) 15-6. 407 Segal (1995) 71. 408 Goldhill (2012) 15; cf. Segal (1996) 72. 409 Segal (1995) 61. 410 Cf. Segal (1981) 82. See above pp. 112-3.

114 never achieved by anyone in the play, not even Heracles, who is closest to it.411 This is underscored in the last lines of the play. As for Deianeira and Iole, for Hyllus, divine will is beyond his understanding, a cruel and violent will.412 Thus the arrangements of the ending and, most importantly, Hyllus’ marriage to Iole leave him in a painful situation (Trach. 1264-78). The gap between human and divine is confirmed. Therefore although the marriage opens a window towards a positive development, the close is still pendant and the resolution is implied only, always just beyond the perception of the human participants.

3. Comedy

Marriage also figures as a closural device within comedy as one of a number of alternative moves. As in tragedy, marriage forms part of a larger stylized trend, but in a manner which is at once both formalistic and more consistently organic. First and foremost, in comedy, it is consistently integrated into the plot. Marriage is a suitable way for a comedy to end: Old Comedy concludes with the celebration of the comic hero’s success. Wedding festivities stand out from other events focusing on the achievement of the individual in that the wedding was a spontaneous communal celebration. It also (to a greater degree than in tragedy) often takes the form of a ritual enacted in front of the audience. In particular, it shows strong features of hieros the gamos. Through the implications of marriage and wedding ritual, the text and its conclusion acquired an extra – figurative – layer of meaning, as we shall see. And this is centred on the ideas of transition, fulfilment and renewal, of theoikos and of the polis.

411 Segal (1981) 107-8, Segal (1995) 63. 412 Segal (1981) 103, 107-8, Segal (1995) 94; cf. also Easterling (1982) 10-1, Cropp (1997).

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Thus, in comedy it gives an impression of a firm closure,413 in contrast to its more ambiguous use in tragedy.

a. Aristophanic gamos, hieros gamos and the comic genre

In contrast to tragedy, wedding as conclusion in Greek Old Comedy is firmly linked not just with specific writers but with the strong formalistic tendency of the genre as a whole. There are specific patterns which are discernible in the comic structure, such as the parabasis and agon and other epirrhematic syzygies.414 This pronounced formalism is also found both in the sequence of structural components and in the presence of recurrent plot themes and dramatic structures.415 Gamos fits into these structures very well. It is assimilated to the final success and thekomos in the form of wedding feast and celebration,416 as in Birds and Peace. In its specifics this ending matches with a common ritual sequence in Aristophanes’ comedies, namely: a procession, followed by a sacrifice, preparation for the feast, and a celebration.417 The wedding, then, finds its place in the conclusion in that it becomes one of the forms thatkomos this as the celebration of the victory takes in the conclusion.

Above and beyond the simple compatibility of celebration, the integration of marriage in

Aristophanes may embrace the themes of the play, as in some of the Euripidean

413 The closure of comedy as a real and unambiguous one has been challenged, most recently by Wilson (2007) esp. 270-287. 414 Handley (1985) 358-62 offers a good overview. 415 See Handley (1985) 356, Reckford (1987) 451, 483-98, Silk (2000) 9, 263, 265, 270-71, 333. 416 Reckford (1987) 444, Bowie (1996) 4, Silk (2000) 333. 417 Sfyroeras (2004) esp. 252, 2567.- This sequence is co-extensive with the plot sequence (Sfyroeras (2004) 259).

116 examples. In its relationship with theoikos , marriage may be part of Aristophanes’ general tendency to entangleoikos and polis,418 but this takes also a form specific to each play. Lysistrata, where the plot is focused on marital dissonance as both generated by and offering a solution to civic and Hellenic discord, is the most straightforward case.

Here the war between the sexes drives the plot, which makes the (re)marriage at the close a natural way to image the final removal of the obstacles to Greek peace. But marriage is also thematically embedded in Peace. Here peace, poetry, feasts, eating and drinking, and weddings, are components of the definitive celebration throughout the play (Pax 775-80, 974-7, 1318-21).419 The poet uses all these as a set of shared associations on which he can draw. This thematic chain, of which peace is a part, is also featured in the finale. The wedding feast of the conclusion Pax( 1316-59) is used as the kind of celebration which combines every pleasure, consummation, eating and drinking, and gives them their place in the play (cf. also Pax 1339-40).420

The wedding bears a far stronger bond with the play in that it is firmly incorporated in its agricultural imagery and thematic area, which runs throughout the play as a whole.

There is a close link between peace and agriculture. Opora, ‘Harvest’, is presented as a companion to Peace (Pax 523). Moreover, agricultural products are part of the agatha of peace for humans (Pax 338-45, 999-1015).421 Peace’s return has an immediate effect on two agricultural products (ἀμπέλους, Pax 557 and συκᾶς, Pax 558), as did her departure.

Similarly, the extinction of agricultural products is correlated with the extinction of

418 Hutchinson (2011) esp. 48-50, 68-70. 419 See Olson (1998) ad 974-7 and Ruffell (2011) 414. 420 Silk (2000) 244. 421 Cf. Silk (2000) 132-33.

117 peace Pax ( 612-4). More importantly, the link between agriculture, which Opora represents, and the establishment of peace in the human world, which Peace represents, is articulated through the special relationship between peasants and peace Pax( 548-63), and the way the removal of peace harms them especially (Pax 625-3, 1178-90). The peasants were chosen to save Peace (Pax 508-11, cf.479-80). It is only they that finally manage to rescue Peace (Pax 508-16) and take pleasure (Pax 556-7, 583-600; cf. 546-8) in her return (cf. Pax 1198-1206).422 The intimacy of their connection is particularly illustrated through the description of the positive effects of peace on agriculture in a characteristically erotic tone Pax ( 571-600).423 When Trygaeus greets Peace upon her restoration he uses the word ‘βοτρυόδωρε’ (Pax 520) and links her directly with rural agriculture and not with thepolis and its problems with war, to which she is more naturally related. The wedding belongs to this framework. Hermes speaks about βότρυς at Pax 708 in the lines at which he gives Opora to Trygaeus in marriage.424 This is a produce selected specifically for emphasis: Trygaeus will ‘cultivate’ Opora to produce grapes.425 Crop and harvest themselves are related to human sexualityPax ( 1322-5,

1339-40, 1348, 1351-2).426 Human and agrarian fertility are juxtaposed in the text as if they were the same thing (Pax 1322-7).

422 Cf. Olson (1998) ad 5567. - This benefit to the peasants is illustrated by contrast through the dissatisfaction of the arms’ dealer (Pax 1210-64), but also of the crest maker, the sword smith and the spear maker (Pax 545-7, 549). 423 See Olson (1998) ad 582-600. 424 Cf. Odysseos (2001) 721-2. 425 On the agricultural aspect of this marriage, see below pp. 122-4. 426 Badnall (2008) 220-1.

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In Birds, though gamos is not so firmly integrated into the central thematic concerns of the play,427 marriage to Basileia emerges naturally from the plot,serving as the means for Peisetaerus to secure his sovereignty (Av. 1534-45). So in all cases where marriage is the conclusion of the comedy, it is a theme which is smoothly and effectively tied with the plot and not a development which appears suddenly in the ending.

But the use of marriage as an end in Aristophanic comedy is organic in a much more essential way. To begin with, it is especially appropriate to the origins of the comic genre. According to Aristotle, comedy arose from phallic ritualsPoe ( ., ch. III, IV,V, especially 1449a11-2).428 Whether or not the reality is so straightforward,429 a phallos was always part of the costume of the comic actor.430 Thus connotations of sexuality were inherent in the genre; and since Aristophanes did not invent themic co costume, this was an embedded feature in comedy from very early on. Sex is often prominent in the conclusion of Aristophanic comedy, frequently combined with feasting.431 And of course marriage has sexual implications.

Since the ritual element of comedy probably has a solid presence in the plays, it is not surprising that the weddings in the ending should have a ritual aspect, too. There is however an added dimension, in that the form of these wedding rituals is that of ‘sacred

427 There are some scattered references which link marriage and weddings with happy occasions of life (Av. 126-34, 161). Only, eros is a – minor – theme (Av. 671-96, cf. 1284); cf. Slater (1997) 81. 428 On the ritual origins of comedy, see Reckford (1987) 449-51. 429 Cf. Pickard-Cambridge and Webster (1962) 132, 162 and Handley (1985) 362-7. 430 Handley (1985) 357. 431 Sommerstein (1980) 11.

119 marriage’, hieros gamos.432 Hieros gamos is a recurrent mythic motif. It denotes the union between superhuman powers433 which establishes order and system. It is then a constitutive act, a creative process with theogonic and cosmogonic implications. In

Greek myth, the originalhieros gamos is the union of Heaven and Earth, attested in

Hesiod and Aeschylus. The lovemaking of Zeus and Hera in the Iliad (Il. 14.347-51) is like its depiction in literature. These unions bear a strong fertility element.434 This archetypal divine union was represented in human religious activities and this representation was also considered as a sacred marriage.435 The enactment is performed by two humans and takes place in the framework of a ritual.436 The most well-known example is the sacred marriage at theAnthes teria (Dionysos and Basilinna).437 The socio-political benefit generated through this particular sacred marriage438 is an extension of agrarian fertility; the latter ensures that thepolis flourishes as a political entity.

432 On hieros gamos, see Kerényi (1976) 105-8, Burkert (1985) 108-9, 132-4 and Avagianou (1991) 199- 202. See also Kerényi (1950), Freymuth (1964), Cremer (1982), Bermejo Barrera (1989), Albert (1991). 433 For examples of hieroi gamoi, see Kerényi (1976) 107; cf. Avagianou (1991) 199-202. 434 The aspect of agrarian fertility in hieros gamos has been an object of a debate, but it is probable that it existed (cf. also Badnall (2008) 222225.).- It is particularly attested in the hieroi gamoi described in Hesiod (Theog. 969-74), Aeschylus (fr. 44) and Homer (Il. 14.347-51; cf. in contrast Janko (1992) adIl . 14.346-53, who is slightly sceptical about the fertility caused by the union of Zeus and Hera). 435 Avagianou (1991) 192-3, cf. also in contrast Pickard-Cambridge (1968) 12, Parke (1977/1986) 113, Simon (1983) 93, 98. 436 Cf. Avagianou (1991) 201. 437 See Avagianou (1991) 199-202. The bride as the wife of archon basileus and Basilinna represented the polis (Avagianou (1991) 192). The union has been interpreted as representing the communion between divine and human (Munn (2006) 39). Thepolis , represented by the wife of thearchon basileus is benefited in that this gamos was supposed to generate the agrarian fertility of the land. See a summary of the scholarship on the issue of agrarian fertility in the Anthesteria in Avagianou (1991)-3. 192 The evidence for the socio-political benefit is ps.-Demosthenes’ Against Neaera (59.73-8), cf. Pickard- Cambridge (1968) 11-12, Avagianou (1991) 192-3, Seaford (1994) 263, fn. 126 and 266. 438 Avagianou (1991) 192.

120

The marriages in the endings of Aristophanic comedy are hieroi gamoi. These are divine marriages, where at least the bride is a goddess and the groom has divine attributes. In particular, in Peace, hieros gamos is present in the form of a marriage with a divinity

(Pax 853-4), since Opora is agoddess. Also, Trygaeus is considered as the next best after the gods (Pax 917); thus he is given an elevated status, even if he is not – literally – a god.439 Therefore, both partners bear some features which make them divine.

In Birds in the wedding which ends the play the bridegroom and the bride are modelled on the marriage of Zeus and HeraAv (. 1720-65).440 The marriage of Peisetaerus and

Basileia is likened to their prototype:ἐ ν τοιῷδ’ ὑμεναίῳ (Av. 1735).441 Peisetaerus is equated with Zeus, since he is turned into the ‘most superior of gods’Av. 1765). (

Moreover, in the manner of divine succession myths he defeats Zeus and he forces the latter to give him Basileia.442 This is an important element because it endows him with

Zeus’ power which is personifiedby Basileia Av ( . 1537-43),443 as her identity and attributes (Av. 1537-43) indicate.444 Basileia

ταμιεύει τὸν κεραυνὸν τοῦ Διὸς

καὶ τἄλλ’ ἁπαξάπαντα, τὴν εὐβουλίαν,

τὴν εὐνομίαν, τὴν σωφροσύνην, τὰ νεώρια,

τὴν λοιδορίαν, τὸν κωλακρέτην, τὰ τριώβολα (Av. 1538-41).

439 Cf. Bowie (1996) 149, Olson (1998) ad 718-9. 440 Sommerstein speaks of them as ‘the new Zeus and the new Hera’ (Sommerstein (1987) ad 1720-65). 441 Badnall (2008) 221-4. 442 Dunbar (1995) ad 1731, cf. Bowie (1996) 163, Badnall (2008) 221-2. 443 Avagianou (1991) 33-5. It is true that the last vowel of βασίλεια is short and therefore she cannot be a personification of the kingship due to her name Av( . 1536, 1753) (Dunbar (1995) ad 1531-6 and ad 1753, cf. Craik (1987) 27). 444 Cf. Dunbar (1995) ad 15316.- Basileia means power for her possessor. Basileia carries with her the thunderbolt and everything else that makes him important (Av. 1538-43, especially 1543).

121

In a typical Aristophanic manner, Basileia is again an abstraction transformed to person,445 a figure whose name makes her the embodiment of sovereign, divine power.446 Basileia then guarantees her husband’s sovereignty Av( . 1536-43),447 as Hera does for Zeus448. Thus, Basileia is implicitly assimilated to Hera and may substitute for her.449 Through the thunderbolt of Zeus, then, now in Peisetaerus’ possession, he has in effect replaced Zeus.450 The song at the end (Av. 1720-65) resembles a cultic hymn (esp.

Av. 1744-58): it includes three important parts of the genre: firstly, the appraisal of the god, since it likens him to an bright all- star praising the new godAv .( 1709-10), secondly the exaltation that he confers blessings to the polis (Av. 1725), a reference to his attributes (Av. 1713, 1716), and finally a short narrative (Av. 1731).451

Yet, it is not only the divine attributes of the persons involved that make these unions sacred. More importantly, these marriages themselves in their nature and function resemble the hieros gamos. In Peace the marriage of Trygaeus to Opora has a strong agrarian fertility aspect, which is an important aspect ofhieros gamos. Opora is not just a goddess, she is a fertility goddess. This is denoted by her opora name: means

445 Newiger (1957) 121-2, Silk (2000) 240, 331-2, Badnall (2008) 211. 446 Dunbar (1995) 8. 447 Badnall (2008) 223-4. 448 In Greek myth, Hera guarantees Zeus’ sovereignty through their intercourse. Hera is not the only goddess on whom Zeus’ sovereignty depends; but she is one of these and it is their intercourse that realizes this through the significant forces it generates, namely war, youth and procreation personified by Ares, Hebe and Eileithyia (see on this issue Munn (2006) 32, 34, 37). 449 Holzhausen (2002) 42, Munn (2006) 39-40, Badnall (2008) 223; cf. Sommerstein (1987) ad 172065.- Basileia may also echo the name of Dionysus’ bride, Basilinna (Anderson and Dix (2007) 3234).- If so, then the polis is probably represented in this union, which in turn points to the Anthesteria (cf. Munn (2006) 39-40). If there the bride, the wife of the archon, represented in a way the polis (Avagianou (1991) 192), here Peisetaerus is the tyrant (Av. 1708). 450 Cf. Avagianou (1991) 33-5. 451 Dunbar (1995) ad 1720-65, p. 750, Badnall (2008) 221.

122

‘harvest’.452 Trygaeus is an invented name and originates from τρυγάω: he is the one who gathers the (grape) harvest.453 This relation between the significance of the names and the reality in which they participatecf. ( Pax 1339-40)454 is crucial: the union of

Trygaeus is both of concrete and abstract nature, both literal and symbolic.455 The metaphorical aspect is registered in the term βότρυς in the engye (Pax 708), employed for their offspring instead of τέκνα:

ἴθι νυν ἐπὶ τούτοις τὴν Ὀπώραν λάμβανε

γυναῖκα σαυτῷ τήνδε· κᾆτ᾽ ἐν τοῖς ἀγροῖς

ταύτῃ ξυνοικῶν ἐκποιοῦ σαυτῷ βότρυς (Pax 706-8).456

Marital consummation itself is conflated with the agricultural activity of harvest: the phrase used for this marriage is τρυγήσομεν αὐτήν (Pax 1339, 1340).457 At one level this is just typical Aristophanic inventiveness in the sphere of sexual vocabulary; but it also reveals the metaphorical interpretation of this union.458 This reading is reinforced by the identification of the female and male genitalia with a fig Pax( 1351-2).459 These connotations are also communicated to the context. Thus, it is very probable that the phrase συκολογοῦντες (Pax 1348) has sexual connotations, too.460 This interpretation is

452 Sulprizio (2007) 164, cf. Silk (2000) 240, 331-2. 453 Hall (2006) 3289.- Quite interestingly the term that Aristophanes uses here for comedy is again originated from τρυγάω; it is τρυγῳδία (cf. Olson (1998) ad 190). Maybe Aristophanes wants to link comedy, or at least this very play, with agriculture (cf. Compton-Engle (1999) 324-9). 454 Cf. Olson (1998) ad 1340-3. 455 Newiger (1957) 110-1, 121-2. 456 See Olson (1998) ad 706-8. 457 Henderson (1975) 65, 167; cf. Olson (1998) 1340-3. See below pp. 130-1. 458 Cf. Olson (1998) ad 706-8 based on Paley. 459 Henderson (1975) 118 with 135; cf. Olson (1998) ad 1354-6 and 1359-60. 460 Henderson (1975) 65; cf. Olson (1998) ad 1354-6.

123 supported by the use of the phrase ἡ δίφορος συκῆ as a metaphor for genitalia in comedy.461

The context of this wedding is also reminiscent of the context of the sacred marriage of the Anthesteria. Both the names of Trygaeus and Opora refer or can refer to vintage, new production of wineis celebrated Pax ( 916), and khytrai (χύτραις, Pax 923;

χύτραισιν, Pax 924) echo khytroi, the third day of the Anthesteria feast, possibly hinting at them.462 The stagecraft during the performance of the wedding song also communicates this agrarian attribute: the goddess of harvest, Opora, stands among

Trygaeus, a vinedresser, and a Chorus consisting of farmers.463

As well as the agrarian aspect there is also a socio-political aspect. The marriage of

Trygaeus and Opora guarantees the safety of agriculture and establishes peace and prosperity for Greece (Pax 1319-1328). In Peace the political character of the rescue of

Peace refers not only to Athens, but to Greece as a whole.464 Trygaeus has saved the

Greeks (Pax 866-7, 914-5, 1035-6, cf. 203-4).465 This is a Panhellenic benefaction (Pax

59-62, 93-4, 105-6, 204-9, 211-9, cf. 261, 435-6, 542, 657-9).466

In the Birds, the political aspect of Peisetaerus’ wedding and the fact that this marriage has an effect on thepolis (Av. 1725) are stressed in the text.467 Despite the fact that

461 Henderson (1975) 117-8; cf. Olson (1998) ad 1359-60. 462 Bowie (1996) 147-8. 463 Badnall (2008) 220. 464 Athens plays the leading role as Trygaeus is an Athenian. 465 See Olson (1998) ad 866-7. 466 Cf. Silk (2000) 407 and Olson (1998) ad 93-94. Cf. also Bowie (1996) 149. 467 Cf. Craik (1987) 27-8.

124

Peisetaerus’ success is more individual than collective, his marriage is described as

μεγάλαι ... τύχαι (Av. 1726) and a benefaction (μακαριστὸν ... γάμον, Av. 1725)468 for the civic community of theBirds (Av. 1723-8);469 also Av. 1706-7 and 1708 are in context; the birds may be τρισμακάριον γένος (Av. 1707) for this marriage. In fact, this marriage introduces the constitution of a new, glorious age for the birds and their polis.470 By the end, their city has achieved everything thatpol ais would wish to possess: festivity, independence, wealth, rule and last but certainly not least food and drink, especially wine, and sex and a life without worries.471 Although the medium of all this achievement is not the wedding with Basileia, this liaison is the chance to exhibit the festivity of this city, and it is the main source of the power of the birdsAv .( 1543,

1706-8, 1725-8). Thus, the wedding in the end seals the foundation of a new polis.472

Yet, the most important aspect which makes gamos an organic element in comedy is its significance for the comic hero. Through marriage his new standing is cemented. This is of material essence in Aristophanes. Trygaeus had a relatively low status at the

468 The birds’ status is ameliorated; for this, see Rosenbloom (2006) 265-71. 469 There is a potential for ironic reading here, on which see Hubbard (1997) and Romer (1997); cf. also Bowie (1996) 169-77, Slater (2002) 144-5. I see no real evidence for irony in the text (Henderson (2003) 172). It is true that the new rule is good for Peisetaerus but also within the fiction of the play it is good for the birds (Henderson (2003) 172). Peisetaerus’ power derives from the sovereignty of thepolis of the birds and is ultimately in their interest, which it protects (Henderson (2003) 172). It also seems that the benefit to the birds is specific (see Rosenbloom (2006) 265–8): they are masters instead of commodities and slaves (Rosenbloom (2006) 265); their divinity is restored and so in a way is their kingship (Rosenbloom (2006) 268). Although Peisetaerus eats the birds, nobody objects (as birds certainly might in real life if they were able); he eats only the traitors and this might well be acceptable for an Athenian audience, who regularly killed them. More crucially, the ironic readings miss the element of legitimate self-indulgence and the fact that comedy is in many respects fundamentally antinomian (see for instance, Dover (1972) 37-8 and most recently Platter (2007) 24, 41). 470 Badnall (2008) 224. 471 Henderson (1997) 137. 472 Cf. Dunbar (1995) 10, and ad 1723-4.

125 beginning of the play; he was a simple vine-grower.473 However, by the end of the play he gets his marriage as a reward for what he has done (Pax 865-6). As usual with comic heroes, this achievement involves sexual satisfaction as a central componentPax (

709).474 But through his marriage Trygaeus is alsouvenated; rej 475 this means eudaimonia to him (Pax 859-65).476 He now becomes the first, except for the gods (Pax

917). He also gets a newoikos and descendants, both of which were crucial for an

Athenian. So throughgamos he achieves youth, happiness and almost reaches the divine. In the Birds, marriage brings a radical change in Peisetaerus’ initially reduced circumstances and a new superior status. To begin with, his fulfilment through marriage consists in rejuvenation477 and ‘the sensual awards of the typical comic 478 hero’, namely, sex and also power.479 Yet, marriage also plays a crucial role in effecting the achievement of the comic hero. Peisetaerus manages to obfuscate the hierarchical structures of the oikos and the polis and in the end to prevailover them.480 The means through which he seals his success is marriage and its natural consequence, the creation of his own oikos. It is thus that he definitely and absolutely imposes himself on the polis. Furthermore, Peisetaerus has gained great power Av( . 1748-54); in the end as a god, he rules the whole universe.481 And this is achieved through his marriage, which actualizes his new advantageous position, on the one hand, and on the other it illustrates

473 Cf. Badnall (2008) 217. 474 Cf. Henderson (1997) 14. 475 Cf. Olson (1998) ad 856-8, ad 860-2. 476 Olson (1998) ad 335-6. 477 At Av. 1256 he was old but at Av. 1723 he appears as young. 478 Henderson (1997) 141. 479 Silk (2000) 286-9. 480 Hutchinson (2011) 68-70, cf. 54-6. 481 Silk (2000) 406-7, Badnall (2008) 217; cf. Konstan (1990) 201-2.

126 and represents the possession of Zeus’ power.482 Marriage then secures his sovereignty

(Av. 1536-43).483

However, though many of our sources foreground the importance of marriage for the female, here once more the male comes to the fore. Femaletelos through gamos is not an issue here mainly because Old Comedy is not– or not usually – concerned with female subjective sexual experience, but also because Opora and Basileia are not mortals, but abstractions.484 It is male fulfilment that matters and needs to be effected: it is the male at th needs Basileia’s attributes. Basileia has the active role and communicates her qualities to Peisetaerus (Av.1538-43) and not vice-versa as is the case in the hieros gamos, for instance of Zeus and Hera.485 This makes these unions more the fulfilment of the men than of the women.486

The sense of fulfilment is underlined in the way Peisetaerus’ achievement is hailed in the end as victory in the context of the wedding celebration.487 The concluding lines of the Birds with the words τήνελλα καλλίνικος hint at the victory song by Archilochus, which we have seen in Pindar:

ἀλαλαλαί, ἰὴ παιών,

482 Cf. Dunbar (1995) 8. 483 Badnall (2008) 221, 223-4. 484 Newiger (1957) 121. 485 Cf. Dunbar (1995) ad 1538-43, Avagianou (1991) 32-3 and also here, Introduction, pp. 21-5. 486 Cf. for the ritual, Avagianou (1991) 33. 487 Calame (2004) 178-81, Wilson (2007) esp. 267-8, 277-80; cf. Badnall (2008) 217-8.

127

τήνελλα καλλίνικος, ὦ δαιμόνων ὑπέρτατε (Av.

1763-5).488

So, this is not only a wedding celebration, but simultaneously a victory celebration. The end of the play is his triumph and the last three lines explicitly address him as an athletic victor (Av. 1763-5; cf. also Ach. 1227-34).489 This conflation is eased by the fact that marriage with Basileia combines gaining Zeus’ power and attaining sovereignty, as we saw above. Thus, the wedding makarismos addressed to Peisetaerus in the conclusion can be read as makarismos a not only for his wedding but also for his triumph, underscored by the elements of cultic hymn.490

b. Aristophanic gamos and the creation of utopia: a case of Aristophanic myth- making

As I argued above, the Aristophanic gamos has elements of sacred marriage.491 We have seen how this relates to the origins of the comic genre. But the concept of sacredgamos is also strongly correlated to notions of the creation of the worldin one of its forms: the primal union of Heaven and Earth. The way Aeschylus describes it is telling:

ἐρᾷ μὲν ἁγνὸς οὐρανὸς τρῶσαι χθόνα,

488 Carey (2012) 33-5. 489 Dunbar (1995) ad 17645,- also ad 172065,- p. 750. There is probably another way in which the celebration of the victory of the comic hero is assimilated to the wedding celebration. The sacrifice taking place before the wedding celebration seals the success of the plan that the comic hero had (Sfyroeras (2004) 256-7). This sacrifice is not explicitly linked with the wedding following, but there were sacrifices preceding Greek weddings offered both by the bride and the groom (Rehm (1994) 12, 14). Thus, the sacrifice is to be understood as part of the weddings. Since the sacrifice seals the comic hero’s success, it does not only introduce the wedding celebration, but also the victory celebration. 490 Dunbar (1995) ad 1720-65, p.750, Calame (2004) 176-81, Badnall (2008) 221, Carey (2012) 34-5. 491 See pp. 119-28. 128

ἔρως δὲ γαῖαν λαμβάνει γάμου τυχεῖν·

ὄμβρος δ’ ἀπ’ εὐνάεντος οὐρανοῦ πεσὼν

ἔκυσε γαῖαν, ἡ δὲ τίκτεται βροτοῖς

μήλων τε βοσκὰς καὶ βίον Δημήτριον·

δένδρων τ’ ὀπώραν ἐκ νοτίζοντος γάμου

τέλειός ἐστι· τῶν δ’ ἐγὼ παραίτιος (fr. 44).492

In that sense cosmogony and sacredgamos are closely connected. There is something primal in these unions and this is what associates them to the creation of the world and the relevant myths. This is confirmed by the fact thatwedding itself is often used as a conclusion to myths of foundation.493

These implications then make this kind of wedding particularly useful in the framework of Aristophanic myth creation.Aristophanes sometimes plays with already existing mythic material;494 equally he may invent myths in order to create extreme situations for the comic hero. This element ofmythopoiia increases the significance of the events of the play, universalizes what is happening in the plot, aggrandizes the ideas and enriches the world of ideas. Thus, it expands the limits of dramatic expression.

In Peace and Birds, Aristophanes presents a myth of the creation of a utopian world which combines food, drink, sex and fertility.495 This is the quest from the beginning

492 The text is taken from Sommerstein 2008c)( , with a typographical misprint corrected; the punctuation follows Seaford (2012) 305. The numbering of the fragment refers to TrGF. 493 Bowie (1996) 163. 494 Handley (1985) 370-73. 495 Ruffell (2011) 386, 420-1.

129 and is reflecting an urge to change the world in which the comic hero lives. Sacred marriage is of the essence in the inauguration of this new reality.496 This is more pronounced in Peace, but is also lurking in Birds.

In Peace the sacred gamos is modelled on one essentially cosmogonic and primeval, the union of Heaven and Earth. This is theultimate sacred marriage, the marriage of vines and harvest. Given its explicit connotations of fertility,497 if this wedding stands for the new world of peace it creates,498 it follows that this dreamworld- is not only one of absolute sensual pleasure, of food, drink and sex, but also a utopia of plenty and peace.

Yet, not only does it contain every kind of pleasure; most importantly in inaugurating a cult for Peace, this may be the most comprehensive utopia in Aristophanes.499

Moreover, this new modus vivendi is communicated to the polis. Sex, food and drink are pleasures for the whole community. It is significant that the word τρυγήσομεν metaphorically used for the marriage of Trygaeus and Opora Pax( 1339, 1340) is in the plural; this suggests that the consummation of the marriage would be done by all of them, not only by Trygaeus.500 Moreover, Trygaeus urges all the members of the chorus and probably his audience as well, as we will see in the next section, to join the feast of drink (Pax 1353-4) and food (Pax 1357-9). And in a (historical) sense this is literally true, since the benefits of (the real-negotiated) peace will be shared. The new mythic

496 Newiger (1957) 122, Konstan (1997) 4. 497 See above pp. 117-21, 123-4. 498 Dover (1972) 139. 499 Carey (forthcoming 2013). 500 Henderson (1975) 65, 167; cf. Olson (1998) 13403. - Olson in contrast suggests that the plural is probably used as a joke (Olson (1998) ad 1340-3).

130 world created by the hieros gamos of Trygaeus and Opora is a utopia in the lived present of the play (unusual in comedy) where peace and plenty coexist and everybody enjoys the pleasures of food, drink and sex.

Moreover, in this case marriage is used as a comic mirror of the procedures for the negotiations for peace. In this play, a comic hero is created after thethic my heroic prototypes, and in particular that of Bellerophon.501 The comic hero achieves the impossible: he ascends to heaven and brings back Peace. At the same time, like

Bellerophon, his model, he also wins a bride.502 In order to manage the settlement with

Peace and the agreement for her return, apart from his joint venture with the farmers,

Trygaeus has first to negotiate with the gods, Peace (seePax 657-705, esp. 705) and

Hermes. The marriage subsequently offered by Hermes (Pax 706-8) between Opora and

Trygaeus, the hieros gamos of this play, is the culmination of this successful venture to save Peace and establish peace in Greece.503 It seals the success of the negotiation procedure and the achievement of peace.

But there is more to this marriage. There is throughout a dialogue of the reality of the comic play with live events in Athens and Greece. In attemptingto generate peace on the divine and mythic level, Trygaeus parallels the human negotiators.504 On the human level, politicians achieve peace through negotiation, but in a world where divinity is

501 The play commenced with this parallelism, since the name of the dung beetle (Πηγάσιον) which transports him to heaven recalls the winged horse of Bellerophon (cf. Pax 76-8, 135-6, 154-72). 502 Bellerophon flying on his horse Pegasus killed Chimera. He also managed to vanquish the Amazons with the help of Pegasus. His success in this, as well as in a battle against Solymi, that Iobates assigned to him, resulted in his marriage to the daughter of Iobates, Philonoe as his reward (Il. 6.155–203). 503 Dover (1972) 137 with 139. 504 Cf. Dover (1972) 137.

131 everywhere, success on the human level implies accomplishment on the divine plane.

The achievement of peace is then overdetermined, in that Trygaeus manages on the divine level what the negotiators attain on more a mundane level.505 But there is a substantial difference between these two attempts for peace. Here, Trygaeus’ task requires only several lines to be successfully completed (Pax 458-516 and 657-708). By contrast, in the mundane reality, the negotiation for this is a hard and time-consuming procedure. Here it appears to be so easy, even fun506, and its outcome is as celebratory an occasion as marriage. This is ultimately, then, a comic fantasy representing a more banal reality.

This mythopoetic approach toplot- building is also applied inBirds . This play begins with Peisetaerus and his dissatisfaction with Athens. By the end of the play he manages to create a new polis in heaven, inhabited by birds. Peisetaerus’ marriage makes him, as noted above, a ‘new Zeus’ with a ‘new Hera’.507 This presentation of the hero takes us beyond the plot into a kind mythopoiia of . In inventing a new divine pair and in representing their sacred gamos Aristophanes offers a new theogony as the basis of a new world. This is underlined by the intertextual relation of Birds the to Hesiod’s

Theogony.508

505 See on ‘overdetermination’, Dodds (1951) 7 and fn.32, Lesky (1961), Hammond (1965), Lesky (1966), Kullmann (1985) 3-5, 15, Gaskin (1990); cf. also Buller (1979), van Erp Taalman Kip (2000) 3912- (and for the combination of human action and divine will Van Erp Taalman Kip (2000) 400-1); see also Scodel (2009) 425-9 on divine intervention. 506 See for instance, the joke on Sophocles, Pax 695-9. 507 See above pp. 121-2. 508 Holzhausen (2002) 34-45.

132

In this new mythic world there is onepolis with absolute power. This is essentially the alter ego of Athens.509 The most important affinity of the birds’ city with Athens is its expansionism and the supremacy it achieves by the end.510 This is a polis which through its tyrant has the hegemony of the world and its rulers are the substitutesfor Zeus and

Hera. This city has commodified all food supply and has achieved the objectives of

Athenian imperialism.511 It is not only self-sufficient but more crucially it has become the undisputed master of the newcosmos created; their power and sovereignty is secured.512 This is then a new more successful Athens in heaven.513

c. Aristophanic gamos and the victory of the comic poet

There is a further dimension to the wedding celebrations which maps on to the larger comic tendency toward overt metatheatricality.Aristophanes employs gamos to communicate to the audience the message that the poet will win in the comic competition. As we saw above, the wedding celebration at the end of the plays is also a victory celebration.514 Yet, this notion of triumph is developedeven further, in that, ultimately, it is communicated to the play in its essence.

This is managed through the combination of two conflations: the conflation of wedding and victory celebration, on the one hand, and the conflation of the victory of the comic hero and the victory of the comic poet, on the other. Aristophanes ends several of his

509 Konstan (1997) 13-7. 510 Konstan (1997) 17. 511 Rosenbloom (2006) 265-8. 512 Cf. Rosenbloom (2006) 265-8 and Hutchinson (2011) 55-6. 513 Konstan (1997) 13-7. 514 See pp. 127-8. 133 comedies with the representation of the comic hero’s triumph and his exodos offstage to a place where he will celebrate his victory (Ach. 1227-34, Av. 1720-65, Pax 1316-59; cf.

Eq. 1407-8, Ran. 1500-32, Lys. 1316-21, Vesp. 1535-7; cf. Eccl. 1163-83, which is not an exodos)).515 The comic hero exits to the city where he will celebrate his victory jointly with the polis.516

In Peace, this is done in two ways.517 Firstly, the comedy is envisaged as a sacrifice ritual in which the audience is invited to participate.518 When offering the sacrifice,

Trygaeus addresses the spectators and asks them to taste the offerings,ἄγε δή, θεαταί,

δεῦρο συσπλαγχνεύετε / μετὰ νῷν (Pax 1115-6). It has been plausibly suggested that what Trygaeus does in these lines is treat the play itself as a sacrifice, and by

συσπλαγχνεύετε, ‘tasting the guts’, he implicitly asks them to taste and enjoy the comedy.519 At the same time, because this is a sacrifice preceding the wedding-victory celebration, the sacrifice implies the ultimate success of the play.520

Secondly, Trygaeus is more than a successful comic hero. He is also likened to the chorodidaskalos (Pax 1192-6, 1197-1310, 1316-28; cf. the horus’ c reply, Pax 1311-

5).521 More importantly, Trygaeus is addressing both the choreutai and the audience and asks them to join the celebration and rejoice together with the chorusPax ( 1317 and

515 Wilson (2007) 267-9. 516 Wilson (2007) 268. 517 In Peace, there are many references to the audience and its metatheatrical character is particularly well- known (Cassio (1985) esp. 37, Sfyroeras (2004) 260, 265, fn. 39). 518 Sfyroeras (2004) 259-60. 519 Sfyroeras (2004) 259-60. 520 Cf. Sfyroeras (2004) 257. 521 Calame (2004) 174-6.

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1357-8). Thus the festivity for the comic victory and the wedding is to be shared by the whole audience, and ultimately becomes a celebration for the triumph of the comic play in the festival.522 Once again the victory of the comic hero and the comic poet are assimilated.523 This assimilation, with its transference of the intra-textual celebration to the extra-textual domain, underscores the implied expectation that the poet will win. The play claims that it has been a success; like its hero it has achieved its target, its telos.

In the Birds again the comic poet uses the closing celebration to express his anticipation of victory.524 The three final lines and the exodos include elements which encourage this metapoetical reading. In the conclusion itself, the wedding procession heads towards the polis, offstage.525 Here, the chorus of the birds make hints at the poetic victory, as

Calame has argued.526 ἀλαλαλαί (Av. 1763) is triumphal, success is also implied through the cry ἰὴ παιών (Av. 1763) – often employed in celebrations of military victory– and through the phrase τήνελλα καλλίνικος (Av. 1764), which was part of the victory song of

Archilochus.527 These last lines are addressed to Peisetaerus and then there is no reference as to where the procession is going: this facilitates the metatheatrical interpretation of the exodos as a procession offstage to celebrate the poet’s victory.528

522 Calame (2004) 175-6, Wilson (2007) 279-80. 523 Wilson (2007) 279-80. 524 Calame (2004) 178-181. 525 Calame (2004) 179-80. In a imilar s way to Peace, again the comic hero may be understood as the choregos, the person who leads the dramatic action, in that he gives the directions to Basileia for their dance, but this is not necessarily so (Calame (2004) 180). 526 Calame (2004) 178-181. 527 Calame (2004) 180-1, Carey (2012) 33-5. 528 Calame (2004) 181.

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A similar ambivalence with reference to the celebration and the song may be traced in

Lysistrata.529 The reconciliation and reunion of the couples is presented as a remarriage.

And this remarriage in turn both results from and is celebrated as the victory of the women’s project to bring peace to Greece. The women had used the power of Aphrodite in order to persuade their husbands and so it is natural with this background that the wedding-remarriage song for the reconciliation would figure in the ending. But this is again a victory song celebrating the outcome of the play:

ἀλαλαί, ἰὴ παιών.

αἴρεσθ᾽ ἄνω, ἰαί,

ὡς ἐπὶ νίκῃ, ἰαί.

εὐοῖ εὐοῖ, εὐαὶ εὐαὶ (Lys. 1291-4).

The lack of specificity here means that this victory song can refer both to the success of the women of the play and also to another victory, the anticipated triumph of the poet in the dramatic contest.530

In Lysistrata, the two mixed choruses531 at the end of the play, the Spartan and the

Athenian, express the communities to which they belong respectively, and eloquently illustrate the mutual agreement for peace on the behalf of both Athens and Sparta.532 If, as others have suggested and I have argued, the ending also anticipates the triumph of the comic poet, the audience is implicitly invited to celebrate the poet’s success in a

529 Calame (2004) 167-72. 530 Calame (2004) 168-9. 531 This wedding song is performed by mixed choruses and expresses the communal voice which spontaneously celebrates the wedding (Swift (2006) 135-6, Carey (forthcoming 2013)). 532 Carey (forthcoming 2013).

136 similar, spontaneous way, encouraging the audience with its response to invite the judges to award the victory to the comic poet. The use of communal celebration draws the audience into the poet’s predicted success and constitutes an implicit appeal for eunoia.

Marriage then is far more fully integrated into the fifth century comic plot than is often the case in tragedy. This difference is surprising, given that discontinuity in language, style,533 characterization534 and – more interestingly to my purposes – plot535 are typical of Aristophanes. There is however nothing in the plot to prepare us for a wedding in the conclusion, in contrast to New Comedy, as we will now see.

4. New Comedy and Menander536

Menandrean comedy is well-known for its penchant for plots with love interest, and– unsurprisingly – marriage is the telos of his plays.537 The conclusions in New Comedy usually consist of a marriage agreement, anengye , and preparations for a wedding celebration. This formalistic aspect of marriage as a closural device links Menander with

Euripides and is a first indication that here as elsewhere in Menander (as I shall argue)

533 Silk (2000)136-7, 140. 534 Silk (2000) 242-4. 535 Silk (2000) 257, 270, cf. also 403. 536 In this section I follow Arnott’s (1996, 1997c, 2000) numbering. 537 This seems to be the case in most of them;Kolax probably did not conclude in this way, and it is impossible to know for Theophoroumene and Leukadia. Dis exapaton is an exception, too; itends with the reconciliation between friends and the restitution of their relationships with theirpallakai . There are other plays (Phasma, Perinthia, Karchedonios, Koneiazomenai) where there are hints at wedding, but the ending does not survive and so there is no guarantee for this.Epitrepontes ends with the reconciliation of Charisios and Pamphile but this may be considered as a case of re-marriage; it is also probable that even if wedding is not the closure, akomos might have been the finale as the celebration for the happy outcome (Arnott (1997c) 521).

137 comedy and tragedy come together. Yet marriage in Menander a is far more organic telos, in that it is the end towards which the plot is striving. The pronounced element of celebration which is generated has its origins in earlier comedy. All these make marriage as an ending deeply integrated into the plot to a degree unattested in Greek drama (as far as we know) before Menander. Furthermore, marriage is not simply employed as the thematic foundation for the plot, but also, as in tragedy, as a way to speak about other issues.538 So, it is used to explore different kinds of human character and behaviour.

And yet, although New Comedy is clearly influenced by fifth-century tragedy and comedy, it differentiates itself from its origins not only in terms of plot and emphasis on marriage but also in that it places its focus on the individual, and not on the polis.539

a. Marriage as an element of the plot

In Menander, romantic relationships, love and marriage are central part of his plots,540 many – if not most – of which are based on a formulaic pattern: a young man is in love, aims at marrying his beloved and living happily with her, but there are always obstacles

538 Cf. Rehm (1994) 136, Foley (2001) 14, Badnall (2008) 109. 539 Zagagi (1994) 95, Heap (1998) 115, Traill (2008) 265. Theoikos receives rather limited attention (Traill (2008) 253). Although Menander is undeniably engaged with the individual rather than the civic community, such plots known as ad hominem plots already existed before Menander (Csapo (2000) 119- 21). What seems to have changed in the fourth century is the dominance of comedies focusing on the individual over those focusing onpolis , but the two styles already - coexisted in fifth century (Csapo (2000) 131-3). 540 Hunter (1985) 83, Wiles (1989) 42.

138 which in the end are overcome and the conclusion of the play isgamos .541 Eros itself is there in all surviving Menandrean plays, even the fragmentary ones.

In one important respect the relation between sexuality and achievement is unchanged between Aristophanes and Menander. Maleeros remains central in Menander.542 The girl is the object of desire.543 By contrast, female eros is largely ignored. The dominant impression is that the romantic interest is confined to the area of male desire only. There are of course exceptions. Female eros is expressed in two of the surviving Menandrean plays, in Perikeiromene (see Per. 185-90 and 1019-23) and Misoumenos (see Mis. 968-

70). These are cases where the young men were already, before marriage, in relationships with their girls, as theirhetairai .544 The important thing is that these women are either not citizens or not known to be citizens. These women have far more public visibility than the (ideal) female citizen. Thus, the fact that the real civic identity of these women is concealed and unknown allows for them to express their thoughts and desires.545 The element of reciprocity in love can receive dramatic expression but only in the case ofhetairai .546 In the case of Athenian women citizens, silence about their

541 See for instance Wiles (1989) 42, Lape (2004) 19, 39, 21 - esp. 22. Nevertheless, in the surviving corpus, there are departures from this format: The plot ofSamia is not quite compatible with this outline, nor are Epitrepontes and Dis exapaton. Perikeiromene is a variation of the pattern, although the conclusion and the use of obstacles are consistent with the usual pattern; it is an instance that there must be plays where marriage is not always sought from the beginning due to the non-Athenian status of the girls and their attribute as concubines. 542 For instance, Dysk. 50-2, 54, 191-3, 345-9, 677-8, 682-3, cf. 201-3; Mis. 819; cf. 721-3, 807. 543 Konstan (1994) 56, Traill (2008) 1-13. 544 Wiles (1989) 467.- By contrast, although Plangon inSamia had known Moschion before their marriage, she is not allowed to express her feelings, precisely because she is a citizen girl. 545 Lape (2004) 34-5, 38. 546 Wiles (1989) 44-5.

139 feelings is dictated by social norms,547 to which New Comedy generally adheres.548

Thus in Epitrepontes Pamphile expresses loyalty Epit( . 801-35, esp. 804, 816-30), not desire.

In a manner which resembles the patterns of heroes in myth and of Pindar’s athletes and mythic figures, the winning, or rewinning of the bride, in the case of restorationof the relationship, is set as the target of the efforts of the comic ‘hero’549 (Dysk. 214-7).550 In this connection it is not irrelevant that the achievement of marriage by Sostratos is expressed in terms of winning a bride Dysk.( 384-89, 764-7, 862-5, esp. 389: πῶς οὐκ

ἐπιτυχεῖν ἐστι ταύτης μακάριον;). Sostratos’ willingness to undertake the agricultural work to which he is unaccustomed, to undergo pain (Dysk. 390-2, cf. 348 with 349, 379-

80, 522-45) and remove hiskhlanis (Dysk. 364-5)551 makes him worthy of Gorgias’ sister and thus he receives his bride as reward.552

547 Zagagi (1994) 69, Lape (2004) 31-2. Unlike hetairai, they were not entitled to public speech but were confined at home (cf. Wiles (1989) 44-5). 548 Zagagi (1994) 69, Lape (2004) 312.- Of course, this is creative literature and so it is natural that Menander should take liberties in adhering to current social practices. Sostratos’ encounters with the daughter of Knemon would not take place in fourthcentury- Athens (Zagagi (1994) 97) and is one of the exceptions in the way social conventions are followed in Menander. Dyskolos has several more instances, where social conventions are not followed (Zagagi (1994) 95-8). 549 By ‘hero’ I meandramatis persona. These are ordinary people. There is none of the individual grandeur of the Aristophanic hero. There is none of the isolated achievement that we associate with the winning of the bride in Pindar and Aristophanes. Nonetheless, these characters by dint of effort and decency do ultimately achieve something collaboratively and in this sense it is not entirely inappropriate to use the term ‘hero’. For all their faults these people are ultimately worthy. 550 Zagagi (1994) 47, Lape (2004) 22-3. 551 The khlanis symbolizes his wealth and social status (Rosivach (2001) 130). This is a striking gesture (Lowe (1987) 77). 552 Rosivach (2001) 131-4, Lape (2004) 123-4. Although it is basically their co-operation (Zagagi (1994) 67) and Gorgias that win her for him (Lape (2004) 120), the text verbally attributes the achievement of marriage to him and this is expressed in terms of winning a bride (Dysk. 862-5). This is however perfectly consistent with Menander’s general tendency togage en with collaborative achievements and not individual (see here, p. 140, fn. 549).

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So, success is never simple. Usually there are obstacles and misunderstandings which need to be overcome in order to effect the wedding. These are obstacles dueeither to others, as in Dyskolos, or to issues of citizenship and mistaken identity, usually in relation to the girl553, or misunderstandings threatening the marriage, as Samia in .

Finally the ‘hero’ succeeds in his wishes and efforts, wins his bride (as in Dyskolos) and achieves his marriage to her. These are marriages which are to be perceived as happy unions which secure theolbos of the pair, at least of the young manSik . ( 380-1).

Marriage in the end is brought about as the result of a sudden revelation whichings br the denouement. There are two kinds of resolution. The first is the revelation of

Athenian citizenship – usually of the girl. This opens the road to a legal wedding. In

Sikyonioi, for instance, the citizen status of Stratophanes and Philoumene matters for the status of their relationship Sik ( . 72-109; 193-275 (as a false allegation), 35473- (as truth); 24657,- 2745;- cf. 1445).-554 The second is the elimination of a misunderstanding. In Samia only when Moschion eventually reveals the truth to his father (Sam. 521-32, esp. 528-30), and when Nikeratos also realizes that his daughter is the mother of Moschion’s illegitimate child (Sam. 532-6, 540-6), are the obstacles to the wedding removed so that the marriage can take place. Sometimes the resolution is mixed: in Misoumenos, it is the revelation of Krateia’s citizenshipMis. ( 611-[39]) as well as the refutation of Krateia’s charges against Thrasonides555 that generate the wedding. In Perikeiromene, the disclosure of the girl’s identity proves both her innocence of her lover’s accusations (Per. 984-9) of infidelity (Per. 153-64, 369-71; cf.

708-25) and her Athenian citizenship. Thus, instead of a mere celebration of

553 Traill (2008) 2-3, 252-3. 554 Arnott (1997a) 8-9. 555 See Arnott’s reconstruction of the plot (Arnott (1996) 341). 141 reconciliation (Per. 991-1000), it is a legal Athenian marriage that will take place, since both are Athenians (Per. 1012-5).556

With all obstacles removed, the marriage is agreed (for instance,Dysk. 748-89) and the wedding takes place. The ending with the preparations for the marriage, which will seal the (now more modest and personal) success of the comic ‘hero’, recalls Aristophanes, where as we saw celebratory endings were generated throughgamos .557 The wedding ritual typical in Menander’s endings takes the form engye of . These rites are more nuanced in Dyskolos where the engye (Dysk. 759-67), the reception of the couple by the mother at the shrine (Dysk. 847-78 passim), a preliminary komos558 (Dysk. 850-2, 855-

60), dance Dysk. ( 957-63) and the procession towards the newoikos (Dysk. 963-4) constitute the wedding celebration.559 Yet as in Aristophanes the celebration, in its full form, does not take place on stage, even in Dyskolos. It is confined to the announcement of, and the instructions for, its preparation. Thus, the audience have a foretaste of the wedding festivities but never actually see them.

As we observed above, the closural use of gamos continues a structural strand as old as

Aristophanes and possibly as old as Comedy. Another feature shared with Aristophanes

556 The rest of the conclusion does not survive. 557 Hunter (1985) 41. Of course here the sexual aspect is less prominent and is withheld through the solemnity of engye and the wedding ritual. This is very different from the sexual satisfaction of the comic hero, in Aristophanes’ weddings, in Peace and Birds, or the ending of the Acharnians. 558 Lape (2006) 97-8, 100-2, 104; cf. Lape (2004) 135-6 with fn. 64. 559 A particularly interesting case is in Perikeiromene. Since the opening speech of agnoia reveals that the misunderstanding of Polemon about Glykera will be resolved in the end, eth cutting of her hair and the bath that Glykera receives from Myrrhine (Per. 305-6) acquire a second meaning and can probably be seen also as stages of the wedding ritual, prefiguring thus the final wedding ritual and celebration which finished the play (May (2005) 285-7).

142 is the metapoetical implications ofgamos which are now fully developed into a larger metatheatrical device. Menander firstly presents the bridegroom as victor. The wreaths and torches of the closure Dysk( . 963-4, Mis. 989-90, Sik. 418-9) were symbols of the wedding ritual, but also have more general connotations of celebration andrevelry. 560

So, when Moschion crowns himself with the wreathπύκαζε ( σὺ / κρᾶτα καὶ κόσμει

σεαυτόν, Sam. 732-3) for the wedding procession (Sam. 729-32), he is both groom and victor. Nevertheless the conflation of wedding and victory in the comic plot is t mos explicit in Dyskolos, even if there is a variation of this motif. Here, the success of the comic play is contextualized (Dysk. 965-9) not with that of the protagonist, but with the attainment of Getas and Sikon in changing the difficult character of Knemon who was the main problem of the play:

ΓΕΤΑΣ συνησθέντες κατηγωνισμένοις

ἡμῖν τὸν ἐργώδη γέροντα, φιλοφρόνως

μειράκια, παῖδες, ἄνδρες, ἐπικροτήσατε.

ἡ δ’ εὐπάτειρα φιλόγελώς τε παρθένος

Νίκη μεθ’ ἡμῶν εὐμενὴς ἕποιτ’ ἀεί (965-9).561

At the end, the chorus addresses the audience, merges success in the dramatic contest with the wedding562 and asks for their eunoia and for victory (Dysk. 965-9; cf. Mis. 993-

6, Sam. 733-7, Sik. 421-3).563 So, all three elements together, the winning of the bride,

560 See Gomme and Sandbach (1973) on Dysk. 964; cf. Lape (2006) 101-2. 561 Dworacki (1977) 29-30, Lape (2006) 97, esp. 101-2. 562 Belardinelli (1994) ad 420c-23, Arnott (1997b) 101, Lape (2006) 96-7, esp. 101-2, cf. Katsouris (1976) 248-50, 255-6 and Dworacki (1977) 38-40 on the Aristophanic influence. 563 It seems that this prayer for victory was a formula in the ending of Menandrean comedy (Katsouris (1976) 243-4, 255-6, Dworacki (1977) 35).

143 the victory of Getas and Sikon, and the victory of the poet and the chorus in the dramatic contest are conflated.564

Before moving to the next section, it is important to note that from a purely realistic perspective the viability of these marriages may bequestionable. Viewed outside their narrative context and theatrical conventions these arrangements are to some degree flawed. They are the result of rape, often drunken rape, and are a kind of objective exchange on which the female’s opinion is not sought.565 All these aspects could be taken to undermine the quality of the marriage arranged in the end and may suggest an ironic reading. Yet, there is no indication in the text that those who are not consulted do feel excluded. Secondly, in such a reading there is an inherent danger that prominence of the rape may be exaggerated. In the text itself, rape though invariably something negative is usually downgraded in terms of emphasis. In most cases in Menander, it is placed in the pre-plot, in the events preceding – and not constituting – the main events of the play. Therefore, the plot never focuses on it, not even inEpitrepontes , where it is very brief. Therefore, the marriages discussed here are more likely to be regarded as a positive outcome. Resolution comes about because people make an effort to put things right.

564 Lape (2006) 101-2. 565 Nelson (1990) 54. 144 b. Marriage as a metaphor

As we will see in the following chapters, marriage has an expressive capacity which makes it a uniquely effective vehicle to discuss other issues.566 The marital relationship is perhaps the closest relationship between two individuals and this makes it a very useful vehicle for the exploration of other relationships.567 Moreover, as we will see, because of the nexus of associations, implications and consequences surrounding marriage, which was the guarantor of the continuation of theoikos and the body of the legitimate citizens of the polis, it had the potential to examine any kind of relationships, behaviours and ethics that extended to the whole society.

Menander also uses marriage as a means of articulating larger issues, as we will see that tragedy also does in the following chapters, but with an important difference. Although the polis matters for tragedy, in fourth-century comedy it is not the central concern. So the themes explored do not have the gravity that they have in tragedy; Menander rather focuses on the individual and his life as member of society. But though he distances himself from Aristophanic comedy in moving away from thepolis as the focus of the comic plot, he still engages with larger subjects, though more obliquely. In that sense,

Menander resembles Jane Austen. Romantic plot is employed for the exploration of human character and behaviour and through these larger social and ethical issues. I will begin with the social ones.

566 Cf. Rehm (1994) 136, Foley (2001) 14, Badnall (2008) 80, 109. 567 Cf. Badnall (2008) 80, 109. 145 i. Social issues

Marriage is a suitable medium for the discourse of social status, which is of great importance in New Comedy,568 in that difference in this domain is often an obstacle in marriage. Comedy sometimes explores status difference through the plots involving mistaken identity, which enables this contrast to be pronounced and then dismissed, as in the case of a hetaira and an Athenian woman citizen.569 In this framework marriage is employed both to articulate and to resolve the social gaps.570

Dyskolos more than any other Menandrean play is engaged with class divisions, poverty and wealth.571 This is facilitated by the fact thatno rape has takenplace, as in most

Menandrean comedy; rape would make marriage compulsory. In its absence the social gaps have to be eliminated in another more effective 572 way. Marriage is uniquely suitable for this purpose in that it effectively highlights (Dysk. 271-87, 293-8, esp. 794-

6; cf. 831-4)573 and erodes boundaries. The marriage agreement across social classes expresses in deed the philia (Dysk. 791-4) which is based on mutual appreciation (Dysk.

815-6, cf. 6157- with 8234)- between two people ofdifferent social classes, and confirms Sostratos’ open social ideology (Dysk. 797-812).

568 See Gutzwiller (2000) 124-5, who, however, has a different approach to the issue. 569 McC. Brown (1993) 51, 54-5; von Reden (1998) 269. 570 Konstan (1994) 58, Zagagi (1994) 102, 111, Lape (2004) 289,- cf. Lape (2004) 129-36. The bridging of the social gaps then generates the communal solidarity which is prominent in New Comedy (Konstan (1994) 58). 571 Lowe (1987) 78, Rosivach (2001) 127. 572 Lape (2004) 114. 573 Rosivach (2001) 127-30, Lape (2004) 114; cf. Lowe (1987) 77. On the other hand, poor farmers do not want rich people (Dysk. 356-7; cf. 754). The expression of the mutual views of rich about poor and poor regarding rich indicates that Lape (2004) 26 is rather mistaken, in suggesting that ‘comedy represents wealth as a good thing and poverty as something to ure end and to hide’. The reality is a little more complex.

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Yet for all the capacity of marriage to explore these boundaries, in this as in other features of Menander there is a pronounced element of idealization. The barriersan c only be eroded in this way in comedy. The way Sostratos persuades his father is also too quick and effective to be realistic. Similarly, Kallipides’ positive attitude towards love in marriage is unrealistic, too.

ii. Exploration of human characters and behaviours

Apart from social discussion, marriage is also a device to explore typicalhuman characters and behaviour, a core concern in Menandrean comedy.574 Thus for instance in

Aspis, marriage is used to explore the human type of the hypocritical, greedy and self- seeking man. Here, marriage underlines the character of Smikrines as πονηρός and

μιαρώτατος (Asp. 308-16), in that he is striving to marry theepikleros for the money that comes with her, as he declares (Asp. 137-46, 181-187, also 252-6, but esp. 269-73).

But this marriage also articulates his unfeeling character in that he takes no pity on the girl, due to his greediness (cf. Asp. 177-86, cf. 250-78a passim, esp. 269-73).

The play where marriage is most pronouncedly used to illustrate a characters i

Menander’s Dyskolos. Knemon’s insufferable temper (cf.Dysk . 5-34) is already articulated through his quarrels with his wife and stepson,- but marriage contributes to illustrate his difficult personality in that it presents a seemingly insuperable obstacle for his daughter’s marriage (Dysk. 179-88, 323-7), and also in that he stubbornly refuses to

574 Hunter (1985) 139. The use of ‘moralizing’, to use Hunter’s term for describing the exploration of these behaviours, is an influence from Euripides’Orestes and Electra (Hunter (1985) 139; cf. Zagagi (1994) 105).

147 join his daughter’s wedding Dysk. ( 867-79, 893-5).575 Getas’ and Sikon’s eventual success in making Knemon join the wedding celebration of his daughter equals the ultimate definite change of his character (Dysk. 902-5, 957-66).

But marriage in Dyskolos is used to explore another human type, one with Euripidean affiliations; the good poor farmer (cf.Dysk . 791-3) represented by Gorgias. This is evident in his censure of Sostratos when he misunderstands the latter’s intentions for his sister (Dysk. 271-98 passim; cf. 303-9), as well as in his initiative (Dysk. 233-58 passim; cf. 321ff.), his loyalty as friend and son Dysk.( 234-54), his independence and sense of dignity.576 All these are illustrated through his attitude regarding his sister’s marriage as well as regarding his own marriage to Sostratos’ sister. This in turn allows the play to touch on the issue of the relationship between wealth and virtue, an issue of perennial interest in Greece.

c. Menander in his contexts

In my discussion so far I have referred to the aspects with reference to which Menander in his use of gamos as an ending device was influenced by fifthcentury- drama, despite the differences. Here I look more generally at the way Menandrean comedy effects a fertile hybridization of elements derived both from tragedy and comedy. I will firstly deal with comedy and then move to tragedy.

575 Zagagi (1994) 109, 112. 576 His sister’s marriage articulates the aspect of his character as a good brother, and his own marriage exhibits his sense of decency and honour. 148

As we have seen, in deploying a wedding celebration to seal the play’s conclusion and celebrate victory and success,577 Menander is following a model at least as old as

Aristophanes, where marriage is one subset of a formal tendency for celebratory endings, with feasting, dance, song, food and wine; there the comic hero’s success is conflated with a wedding feast.

Despite this fundamental continuity between Menander and Aristophanes, Menander differentiates himself in the aspect of sensual pleasure, which, as I have argued above, is a distinct feature of the Aristophanic conclusion. In Menander’s endings, this element exists, but it is at most implicit. Indeed, it seems that if the link with the origins of comedy suggested above is real, this fertility element has been so fully absorbed into the comic plot by the time of Menander that it has become a barely perceived foundation to what is now a fully embedded feature. Nevertheless, Aristophanes often foregrounds the sexual dimension to a degree we do not find in Menander.578 Aristophanic endings are much more interested in the element of fulfilment of physical desire. In Menander though sexual desire is presupposed, the emphasis at the end is on the relationship.

There are no pronounced implications of birth, rebirth and procreation and therefore of fulfilment and renewal of the comic hero, even less of the (re)constitution of the larger civic or cosmic order. Moreover, for Aristophanes marriage is a means of underscoring the hero’s victory by giving him the physical embodiment of success, while in

Menander the element of success has been dispersed more generally among the families at the heart of the plot.

577 Hunter (1985) 41. 578 Lysistrata is unusual in the interest it takes in relationships, though still always expressed through the medium of sexuality.

149

Continuity between Aristophanes and Menander is unsurprising, in that both belong to different phases in the evolution of the same genre. But Menander’s marriage endings also reflect a rapprochement betweent ragedy and New Comedy. This is not surprising in view of the way that New Comedy associates itself and establishes links with tragedy.579 One obvious point of convergence between the two genres is the use of marriage in the conclusion of a domestic-orientated plot. Marriage or reconciliation is the norm as closure and thus fits within a larger formalist tendency which has its roots in late fifth-century tragedy and particularly in Euripides. As we saw, Euripides is distinctive for the recurrent use gamos of as telos among the deus ex machina arrangements, who appears suddenly to reveal unknown truths, explain things and restore order. Menander drew this element ofsudden intervention from tragedy and refocused it. As we have seen above, marriage as resolution is the standard ending in

Menander and emerges from the sudden revelation of an ignored truth or a recognition, both in the Euripidean manner.580 In some respects however the character of

Menander’s happy endings is essentially different. In Euripides, marriage is rarely a logical result of the plot in an Aristotelian sense.581 It often provides a formal closure while leaving a number of complex issues hanging. Menander’s endings are radically different; they are decidedly positive. Euripides’ endings are interrupted cadences with question marks, in contrast to Menander’s perfect cadences.

579 The issue has been much discussed. For recent discussions see Csapo (2000), Traill (2001), Vogt-Spira (2001), Marshall (2002), Cusset (2005), Papastamati-von Moock (2007). 580 Traill (2008) 260-3. 581 See p. 88, fn. 293.

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We should not however overstate the gap between Euripides andMenander. The aspect of marriage as the logical conclusion of the themes of the play is not entirely

Menander’s innovation. It has its precedent in the use of marriage as a closural device in the form of ‘remarriage’ in Euripides’Alcestis and Helen.582 Menander’s innovation is to generalize this organic use of marriages to provide a firm plot closure.

There is another aspect of marriage which aligns Menander with Euripides. These are ordinary marriages; there is nothing divine, nor fantastic in them. Thisfferentiates di

Menander from the profound element of fantasy in Aristophanes’ comic marriages. The fundamentally human character of these weddings is radically different from the abstractions of Aristophanes. It seems, then, that Euripides is probably the source of

Menander’s more realistic approach to gamos.

The influence of Euripides is clearer in a major aspect of the general use of marriage in

Menander. Marriage is used as a social microcosm and a metaphor in both genres. As we have seen, Menander is using marriage to explore other issues like ethics and relationships in a similar way with tragedy in the fifth century, as I will show in chapters

3 and 4. Marriage again is medium rather than merely a plot gesture. Yet, Menander’s plays differ in that they show ultimately positive models of behaviour, where Euripides explores the destructive aspects of human conduct.

582 Although these plays end with reunion, not marriage in a pure literal sense, the text invites us to regard this as a re-marriage enacted as wedding, as I showed above. This makes them variations on the formal marriage closures.

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Therefore, marriage is one of the areas in which comedy, despite the radical changes in plot and structure in the fourth century, retains itscontinuity with fifth-century Greek drama. Menander’s genius combined elements of the uses of marriage from his predecessors and deployed marriage as atelos which is both formalistic and organic.

Thus, in his use of marriage Menander emerges, as in otherrespects, as a poet of convergence. The resilience and flexibility of comedy as a medium over the two centuries in which we can (imperfectly) trace its history is reflected in the way it both absorbs and blends these two different strands so effectively, and in Menander’s ability to give fresh life to a plot feature which make have its roots in the very origins of the genre.

5. Conclusion

Gamos as telos proves a most versatile device in Greek drama. It varies from being an external, unexpected arrangement imposed at the end, though – usually – related to the play, if only to a minor plot strand, to being the logical and anticipated conclusion, and finally to being an inevitable and deeply organic element. As effect it shifts from being part of a pendant closure to marking a happy outcome with celebration and joy.

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Chapter 3: Missed gamos

1. Introduction

Given the crucial importance of marriage in Greek culture it is natural that its absence creates serious problems at multiple levels. As mentioned in the introduction, in the case of the premature death of both girls and boys, loss of marriage was a recurrent theme of lament in the funeral monuments.583 In oratory by contrast it is more specifically in the case of girls that loss of marriage is treated as erious a s problem (Lys. 13.45, Dem.

45.74/75, 59.8, 59.112). In this section I will explore the use of missed marriage as a motif in tragic texts.584

In tragedy this choice of motif is in agreement with the larger ‘grammar’ of the genre.

Greek tragedy makes systematic use of the language of ritual585 and it is not surprising that a highly ritualized activity likegamos should become part of this usage. Thus it takes the motif of premature death of virgins from the everyday burial and mourning practice and employs it in a variety of ways to achieve a variety of effects. It is these uses and effects that I will examine in this chapter. Naturally, the motif of missed gamos in tragedy is at its most basic level used to generatepathos . Yet, the communicative capacity of this motif is frequently extended to articulate key themes of the play, priorities and more importantly to underline the element of distortion in actions, decisions, as well as detriments and losses that the oikos suffers in consequence.

583 See Introduction pp. 23-4. 584 Cf. Badnall (2008) 79. 585 Goldhill (1997) 130ff.

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2. Enhancement of pathos

As we have stressed, missinggamos in ancient Greece meant that one’s life was seriously deficient. This loss was a cause of pain and regret both for the individual and for the family.586 This made it a useful tool in the hands of tragedians. The dependency of tragedy on emotional effect was already recognized by Gorgias and emphasized by

Aristotle.587 Emotion was inextricable from the intellectual aspect of tragedy and it was prominent in the evaluation of tragedy (both positive and negative) in ancient theory with regard to its effect on the audience.588 In this framework, the motif of missed gamos was of great rhetorical value due to its capacity to evoke pity. This section addresses the first and most basic dramatic use of the motif of missedgamos in Greek tragedy, which is the enhancement ofpathos. I will focus on five tragedies: Euripides’

Iphigenia in Tauris and Electra, and Sophocles’ Oedipus Tyrannus, Electra and

Antigone.

In Oedipus Tyrannus Oedipus on his return to theskene after his self-blinding and the suicide of his mother confronts the implications of what he has done, not just for the previous generation and himself but also for the whole future of his family. The missed gamos of his daughters is singled out for emphatic mention. He predicts a life of desolation for them589:

καὶ σφὼ δακρύω· προσβλέπειν γὰρ οὐ σθένω·

νοούμενος τὰ πικρὰ τοῦ λοιποῦ βίου,

586 Cf. Badnall (2008) 118-9. 587 Taplin (20032) 169. 588 Taplin (20032) 169-70. 589 O.T. 1487, 1502-3, 1506, 1513-4. 155

οἷον βιῶναι σφὼ πρὸς ἀνθρώπων χρεών (O.T. 1486-

8).

Missed gamos is here primarily a means of articulating guilt and grief. The pathos of their situation is expressed through two groups of attributives: χέρσους .... κἀγάμους

(O.T. 1502) and especially with πτωχὰς ἀνάνδρους ἐγγενεῖς ἀλωμένας (O.T. 1506), which stress the appalling situation in which his daughters are now placed as a result of their father’s actions. The iteration of the word ποίας underlines the miserable future of his daughters: ποίας γὰρ ἀστῶν ἥξετ᾽ εἰς ὁμιλίας, / ποίας δ᾽ ἑορτάς (O.T. 1489-90). As well as being directed inward towards himself and outward towards his daughters, the hyperbole is also used to supplicate Creon (οἴκτισον, O.T. 1508; ξύννευσον, ῶ γενναῖε,

O.T. 1510) to take care of them and their marriageO.T. ( 1506), which is part of his request to Creon for a general provision for themO.T. 1503- ( 14). In illustrating

Oedipus’ powerlessness and complete dependency on others,590 these lines are a prelude to the following scene, in which Oedipus begs Creon not to deprive him of his daughters

(O.T. 1515ff.), where all Oedipus can do is supplicate Creon to show pityO.T. ( 1521).

These two scenes together show clearly how Oedipus’ situation has been reversed, as the chorus note:

ὦ πάτρας Θήβης ἔνοικοι, λεύσσετ᾽, Οἰδίπους ὅδε,

ὃς τὰ κλείν᾽ αἰνίγματ᾽ ᾔδει καὶ κράτιστος ἦν ἀνήρ,

οὗ τίς οὐ ζήλῳ πολιτῶν ταῖς τύχαις ἐπέβλεπεν,

εἰς ὅσον κλύδωνα δεινῆς συμφορᾶς ἐλήλυθεν.

ὥστε θνητὸν ὄντ’ ἐκείνην τὴν τελευταίαν ἔδει

590 Cf. Budelmann (2006) 52.

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ἡμέραν ἐπισκοποῦντα μηδέν᾽ ὀλβίζειν, πρὶν ἂν

τέρμα τοῦ βίου περάσῃ μηδὲν ἀλγεινὸν παθών (O.T. 1524-

30).591

In the case of Sophocles’Electra both situation and effects are different. The emotive potential of the motif of missedgamos here goes far beyond the evocation of pity.592

Electra’s missing marriage makes her life wasted, as she declares in a powerful expression of her suffering (Soph.El. 185-8).593 It forms part of her many miseries: her father is dead, her brother is in exile, she has no protector and her mother killed her father and is married to hercollaborator in this murder. Electra shares a home withthe killers, degraded and hated, and stays unmarried with no children (Soph.El. 164-172,

185-92). Marriage – specifically, the lack of it– is an aspect of the general oppression that Electra suffers at their hands (cf. Soph.El. 1183). In the catastrophicsituation in which she finds herself, it would be difficult to argue that it is the most important of her misfortunes. But given her age and sex it is the one which offers the greatest degree of pathos and so it is singled out as the one which encapsulates the rest.594 Despite its limited role,595 the lack ofgamos effectively articulates the complete despair and the pain of Electra for her situation (Soph.El. 164ff.): Electra has lost any hope ὁ (πολὺς

ἀπολέλοιπεν ... / βίοτος ἀνέλπιστον, Soph.El. 185-6) and she wastes away in this

591 These lines have been suspected; see especially Dawe (2001). The most recent article on the ending of O.T. as (partially) interpolated is Kovacs (2009). The lines are successfully defended most recently by Finglass (2009) and Budelmann (2006); the first defends the text on philological terms and the second on dramatic-thematic grounds. 592 Cf. Badnall (2008) 121-2. 593 Cf. Badnall (2008) 121-2. 594 Cf. Badnall (2008) 121-2. 595 Missed gamos is mentioned only in four loci (Soph.El. 164-172, 185-92, 1183, cf. 964-6) but always at key moments, in the context of Electra’s personal impasse, agon her with Chrysothemis and in the recognition scene.

157 unmarried and desolate state ἄνευ ( τεκέων596 κατατάκομαι, / ἇς φίλος οὔτις ἀνὴρ

ὑπερίσταται, Soph.El. 187-8).

Nevertheless, it is striking that despite the amount of thepathos caused through the reference to missed gamos, Electra’s argumentation to Chrysothemis (Soph.El. 962-3) ignores this aspect and focuses on marriage as a material issue which should cause action against Aegisthus. Electra does not treat it as a loss which causes personal grief but she coldly regards it as a serious deficiency for which Aegisthus is to blame and which they can resolve only if they kill him. Multiple effects-exist. co Given the opportunity for action her treatment shifts fluently from personal and emotional to practical and calculating.

The emotional effect is complicated further by the fact that some of this is due to

Electra’s character and temper, which is in many ways typical of the Sophoclean hero.597 In terms of the behaviour expected of a Greek female Electra is self-willed and she herself views her conduct as excessive.598 Her grieving is problematic both ethically and practically and this is emphatically underlined in 599 the Electra’s play. insubordination ultimately makes Aegisthus’ mistreatment of her worse: Aegisthus and

596 Soph.El. 187 is disputed; the reading of the manuscripts τοκέων is and it has been defended by Finkelberg (2003). Her most important argument is probably thatτήκομαι is used in this play only in the context of a certain ‘heavy calamity’ (Finkelberg (2003) 372). Yet loss of marriage was crucial for girls. Moreover if ἀνήρ in the next line is to be interpreted as husband, which is very probably, this would support the reading τεκέων. For these two reasons I would prefer the reading τεκέων. 597 Knox (1964) esp. 19-26, but also 28-35, Juffras (1991) 99, cf. Lloyd (2005) 78-80, 96-7. For a negative evaluation of Electra’s heroic character as ironic and negated, see Ringer (1998) esp. 172-85. 598 Soph.El. 131-3, 221-5, 254-257, 307-9, 606-7, 616-8 with Knox (1964) 389,- Ewans (2000) 126-7, Foley (2001) 150 with references, MacLeod (2001) 58, Lloyd (2005) 78-80, 96. 599 Seaford (1985) 320-3; cf. Foley (2001) 156.

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Clytemnestra cannot bear her any more and want to get rid of her (Soph.El. 378-84). She even comes to define female virtue in terms of male virtue (Soph.El. 973, 981-3, 986-7,

989, cf. 9978- and 1014).600 There is something unfeminine about her role.601 Yet although her cognitive capacity602 and her state of mind603 have also been questioned by modern scholars, her self-awareness is clear.604 Electra has a sense of aidos and the fact that she acknowledges with shame her partial failure in this respect is to her credit.605

She is alert to the fact that she cannot besophron because of her circumstances.606 It also seems that although this situation does not entirely vindicate her conduct, it at least justifies her choices and actions.607 In that sense, she is not like Clytemnestra. Even if their behaviour is similar, Electra’s conduct is dictated by different motives and circumstances.608

Moreover, there is an important factor for the evaluation of her conduct, and especially for the determination of the proper reactionto her evident lack of moderation andof stereotypical female submissiveness, and consequently to the potential piteousness of her unmarried state: (as the text stresses) Electra is placed in an impossible situation, in which the only alternative is capitulation, like Chrysothemis’. Adherence to everyday cultural norms loses its overriding appeal in a context so far removed from everyday normality. So though the emotional reaction to Electra may be complicated, sympathy is

600 Foley (2001) 160-1, 151. 601 Wheeler (2003) esp. 379, 383; cf. Badnall (2008) 123. 602 Goldhill (2012) 48-9. 603 Seaford (1985) 323, Kitzinger (1991) 325 and especially Wheeler (2003) 381. 604 MacLeod (2001) 59. 605 MacLeod (2001) 54, cf. in contrast Cairns (1993) 241, 248-9. 606 MacLeod (2001) 59. 607 MacLeod (2001) 54. 608 MacLeod (2001) 171.

159 certainly part of the effect. Also important is what her missed gamos means in larger terms. The pathos is not purely personal. With Orestes gone, possibly forever, she and her sister Chrysothemis are, like theepikleros in classical Athens, the remaining blood link with the oikos of her father. The virginity to which she is condemned is the end of the bloodline.

If in Sophocles’ Electra the motif of missed gamos concerns a fear for the future, the contingency that Electra will never manage to make her transition to marriage status,609 in Iphigenia in Tauris it is an affair of the past, a lost opportunity to which Iphigenia looks back. Missed gamos in I.T. becomes a way of encapsulating and emphasizing the awfulness of displacement and exile. To the general importance of marriage for a woman in ancient Greeceis added the prestige of alliance to Achilles. In this case, missed gamos takes away all she had and the fact that it was spurious but still resulted in her removal to Tauris heightens the devastation caused by its loss. The result of her lost gamos was not only deprivation of fulfilment as a woman and of status but also confinement in a detested barbarian society; missed gamos (I.T. 215-7) equals Tauris as its substitute (I.T. 218-9). Iphigenia is made a priestess among the Taurians; but– in sharp contrast with the wedding ritual – the rites over which she presides are repellent to her and she is not and cannot be integrated into this society.610 Her theatrical space mirrors her physical state: inviolate, set apart, unintegrated. Marriage thus reinforces her alienation from her past and from her present.

609 Cf. Badnall (2008) 121. 610 Cf. Badnall (2008) 79.

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The use of the motif of missedgamos to generate pity recurs in the case of Antigone.

The use of marriage is not as extensive as in other cases and the motif puts in an unusually late appearance, emerging after the one third of the play has passed.611 It is also surprising in another sense. Her character is self-willed and in many respects (like that of Electra) unfemale Ant ( . 484-5, cf. 61-2) when viewed in the context of fifth- century Athenian society.612 Antigone is absolute, immoderate, uncompromising, lonely in a dead end.613 She is fierce and obstinate in her choices. Here however it is important to cast off the presuppositions of a world in which marriage is ultimately and primarily about individual emotional fulfilment. Her yearning for marriage is not at odds with her masculine character, since marriage is not, or at least not principally, a matter of love but of roles and expectations.614 There is thus no inherent contradiction between the wilful nature of Antigone and her association with more normal female aspirations to attract pathos.615

In contrast to other cases, Sophocles never places Antigone in front of a real dilemma between missed marriage and duty.616 This justifies why the motif of missedgamos is exploited only late in the play, as we have seen. The reference to the engagement to

Haemon is only introduced after Antigone has taken the decision to disobey Creon and bury her brother and it is Ismene who first brings this issue in discussion. She has not mentioned this to Antigone when trying to dissuade her from fulfilling her plan Ant.( 1-

611 Cf. Badnall (2008) 117-21, and also 122. 612 Cf. Badnall (2008) 112, 123. For the association between Sophocles’ Antigone and Electra, see Lloyd (2005) 78. 613 Knox (1964) 17-26, 32-35, 39-43, Winnington-Ingram (1980) 9, 317, 322, cf. Lloyd (2005) 78-80. 614 Cf. Badnall (2008) 112. 615 Cf. Badnall (2008) 118. 616 Cf. Badnall (2008) 117-8, 120-1, 123. 161

99), but she does to Creon Ant.( 568-75). Nor does it appear in the discussion between

Antigone and Creon. It seems that Ismene’s reference to missedgamos in Antigone’s presence is designed to prime the audience for the scene where Antigone laments her missed marriage. This choice has implications for the portrayal of Antigone. Had

Sophocles chosen instead to give us an Antigone who reflected on her alternatives, who carried out a cost-benefit analysis in terms of the price of compliance and the price of defiance, we would have a more reflective figure. But we would have lost the stark sense of resolution and Sophocles would have blurred the sharp contrast between the values which Creon and Antigone espouse. Once the competing positions are mapped out and the result for Antigone is fixed by Creon, Sophocles introduces us to what

Antigone has surrendered in pursuit of her principles. Antigone dies aware, as weare aware, of all that her adherence to principle has cost her in personal 617 terms, and ironically in terms of her family, since with the brothers dead she and Ismene are the last links with the oikos of her father. Antigone is not an immediately attractive character but the play invites its audience to sympathize with her situation, principles and character, if not her manner, and the missedgamos is part of this. At the same time by keeping the gamos dilemma for the moment when death is so close to her,he dynamics t of the pathos are much more powerful; the emotional impact is greater.618

Pathos is articulated here in many ways.619 Antigone admits now that this situation is a curse for her: ἀραῖος ἄγαμος (Ant. 867-8, cf. 917-8). Repeated negative statements (οὔθ᾽

ὑμεναίων / ἔγκληρον, οὔτ᾽ ἐπὶ νυμ- / φείοις πώ μέ τις ὕμνος ὕ- / μνησεν, Ant. 813-6) and

617 Cf. Badnall (2008) 177-9. 618 Badnall (2008) 120. 619 Cf. Badnall (2008) 122. 162 iterated privative alphas620 emphasize the absence felt due to the lack of marriage at Ant.

876-82:621 ἄκλαυτος, ἄφιλος, ἀνυμέναι- / ος (Ant. 876-7), ἄλεκτρον, ἀνυμέναιον (Ant.

917), and illustrate her misery (ταλαίφρων, Ant. 877).622 She expresses her desire for the marriage lost through the synecdoche of the torches missed (Ant. 879-80). She also uses the (almost clichéd) paradoxical and metaphoric language of marriageto death623 to underline her pain. Her procession towards the newoikos is led by Hades: μ᾽ ὁ παγ- /

κοίτας ᾍδας ζῶσαν ἄγει / τὰν Ἀχέροντος / ἀκτάν (Ant. 810-13, cf. 891ff.).624 She will marry Acheron himself:Ἀ χέροντι νυμφεύσω (Ant. 816). Her tomb is her dal bri chamber: ὦ τύμβος, ὦ νυμφεῖον (Ant. 891). All these are ways to articulate the pain and isolation of Antigone and create pathos at a critical moment, as she looks back on opportunity lost. This combined with the reconsideration of her behaviour and the firmer reaffirmation of her choices allows the audience to feel the misery and desolation of her situation and also (and in consequence) helps to reinforce the growing shift of sympathy from Creon; at the same time the firmness of her choice is expressedmore fully, since the passage shows what thisprohairesis cost to her and how much she valued her brother and the divine laws.

I offer one final variationof the way missed gamos articulates pathos. In Euripides’

Electra missed marriage is explored fromother, an different angle, namely its implications for a woman’s role in society. This is a peculiar case, because Electra is married but the marriage is unconsummated and she is still aparthenos . Therefore this

620 Badnall (2008) 120. 621 Cf. O.T. 1501-2, 1506. 622 Badnall (2008) 120. 623 Rehm (1994) 59-71, Badnall (2008) 114-21 passim. 624 Rehm (1994) 63-4.

163 is (in essence) a missedgamos . The reason for its non-completion is that this is a socially inappropriate marriage for Electra. Therefore, missedgamos is here ultimately about civic identity, as we saw in chapter 2,625 and is used rhetorically to exacerbate the sense of pain.

Exclusion from society was of critical significance even for women. Although they did not participate in an active way in the political life of thepolis , they did have a role to play in society, particularly in the area of religion. Apart from giving birth to the citizens of the polis, they participated in festivals. As the only formal role they had in public space, it was a very important one. So when Electra declines to join the chorus for the festival of Hera, this emphasizes her anguish and shame at her reduced circumstances

(Eur.El. 175-89), due to her socially degrading marriage. Electra describes her miserable situation in stating that her appearance is most inconsistent with the glory of her father

(Eur.El. 184-9):

σκέψαι μου πιναρὰν κόμαν

καὶ τρύχη τάδ’ ἐμῶν πέπλων,

εἰ πρέποντ’ Ἀγαμέμνονος

κούρᾳ τᾷ βασιλείᾳ

τᾷ Τροίᾳ θ’, ἃ ’μοῦ πατέρος

μέμναταί ποθ’ ἁλοῦσα.

But this is not simply a matter of personal sorrow or resentment. Her refusal to participate in the festivals and public celebrations (Eur. El.175-189, 310-3) and thus

625 See also Zeitlin (1970); cf. Papadimitropoulos (2008) esp. 114-115, 117-8. See ch. 2, pp. 95-6.

164 fulfil her proper social role expresses her social marginalization.626 Her missed gamos to the autourgos as the reasonfor her abstinence from social activity articulates her inability to behave as member of the polis (see Eur.El. 246-7) and her minor position in society.

3. Prohairesis

A recurrent use of the motif of missedgamos in tragedy is its employment as a way of articulating what Aristotle calls prohairesis. Prohairesis, ‘choice’, for Aristotle is that deliberate choice627 which is made in morally unclear, extreme and difficult circumstances,628 and which therefore emphatically expresses the moral agent’sethos

(Poe. 6.1450b8-10).629 ‘[P]rohairesis is a matter of conscious desire and intention, a deliberate moral choice’630, or in Halliwell’s words: ‘the deliberate framing of ethical intentions’.631 This is why it is closely linked with and highlights the agent’sethos

(Arist.Poe. 1450b8ff.: ἔστιν δὲ ἦθος μὲν τὸ τοιοῦτον ὃ δηλοῖ τὴν προαίρεσιν, ὁποῖά τις

ἐν οἷς οὐκ ἔστι δῆλον ἢ προαιρεῖται ἢ φεύγει (διόπερ οὐκ ἔχουσιν ἦθος τῶν λόγων ἐν

οἷς μηδ᾽ ὅλως ἔστιν ὅ τι προαιρεῖται ἢ φεύγει ὁ λέγων).632

In the case of missed gamos this prohairesis involves ‘extreme choice’. By this I mean a choice that is decided and carried out in extreme circumstances, such as threat of death

626 Zeitlin (1970); cf. Papadimitropoulos (2008) esp. 114-115, 117-8. 627 Halliwell (1986) 151f., cf. Foley (2001) 109 and fn. 1. 628 Cf. Foley (2001) 119, 121. 629 Cf. Foley (2001) 109: the Aristotelian prohairesis is ‘a process of undertaking commitment in which a person chooses to act or to abstain from actions in circumstances where the choice is not obvious.’ 630 Foley (2001) 109 fn. 1 based on Halliwell (1986) 151. 631 Halliwell (1986) 151f. 632 The text follows Halliwell (1995). 165 or of threat of loss of a very important thing or challenge of a crucial principle, as in the case of Antigone. What the poets do through lost marriage is articulate in a most emphatic way633 the significance and impact of the choices made.634 This motif is used in tragedy primarily in the case of young unmarried girls. In the case of a young male such as Menoeceus in Pho. 991-1018, missed gamos does not attract the same emphasis.

In fact he says nothing of this loss. Duty the to country and death form the focus of prohairesis with no reference to marriage, at all. There is only one exception,

Hippolytus, and this is a very peculiar case which I will treat independently.

The articulation of extreme choice through the missedga mos of girls rests on three interrelated factors: firstly, women were widely regarded as incapable ing of tak authoritative decisions (Arist.Pol. 1260a13-4).635 In addition, they lived under a certain restriction and lack of freedom636 with respect both to the oikos and to society. Last there was a lack of alternatives in a woman’s life. Marriage was the only option for girls.637 They simply had to get married.638 They were not granted ‘moral autonomy’.639

All these factors make women, to use Foley’s words, ‘ethically speaking a marked category’.640 Precisely because they had very little, the fact that they gave up what little they had is a very significant gesture. Of all three social categories of women– mother,

633 Foley (2001) 116: ‘women are ethically speaking a marked category... they offer unusual dramatic opportunities’. 634 Foley (2001) 119, 121. 635 Cf. Hall (1997) 109. 636 Cf. Foley (2001) 111, 118-9. Naturally, there were variations and differences in these restrictions of women depending on their social class (Foley (2001) 111). 637 Swift (2010) 249-50. 638 Cf. Just (1989) 40. 639 Foley (2001) 181-2. 640 Foley (2001) 116.

166 wife, virgin641 – the virgin is the most convenient category for tragedy to articulate extreme choice. Virgins are the social group which is the least empowered, the most dependent upon others, and in the most sensitive position: they have a liminal status and they are subject to irresistible emotional and social pressure to marry.642

This special importance of marriage made it a valuable tool in the hands of tragedians because it allowed them to endow the prohairesis and the sacrifice of virgins with much greater emotional load than any other sacrifice would have.As well as placing women in a context where they must give up their only viable future,643 it also offered a vital means to explore one of the key themes of tragedy, the conflict between social roles.644

Tragedy places females in deliberately created impassesand asks for very difficult choices. Though these crises take place in theoikos , the consequences affect the entire community.645 Gamos is prioritized in the rhetoric and becomes a way of articulating what is lost, while it also occasionally associates women in tragedy with the moral values of the epic hero, as they opt for kleos over life.

641 Cf. Foley (2001) 119 and for the categories of women in tragedy see Hall (1997) 106. 642 Cf. Foley (2001) 123. 643 Cf. Foley (2001) 116: ‘In so far as women in tragedy and epic are moral agents with a difference, they reveal in a positive sense important social and ethical alternatives’. Cf. also Foley (2001) 118: ‘Women in tragedy can nevertheless take ethical stances that either prove to be superior to those of men in particular instances or appropriate but different from those of men due to the constraints of their socialor role status.’ Also Foley (2001) 121, 123, 125. 644 Cf. Humphreys (1978) 202-3 and Neuburg (1990) 67. 645 Cf. Hall (1997) 103-4, Badnall (2008) 79. On the other hand this was an unavoidable setting for these crises due to the huge importance that the oikos had for the polis and the interrelation that it had with the polis (cf. Hall (1997) 104.) After all, the conflict between the social roles (cf. Humphreys (1978) 2023 - and Neuburg (1990) 67) could not be manifested if theoikos was not to be taken into account. This also explains the prominent role of women in Athenian tragedy (cf. Hall (1997) 105).

167

A straightforward example can be seen Heraclidae in , where, despite the initial statements of the maiden that she has already lost her chance for marriage, the actual existence of a choice between marriage and deathHcld. ( 523-7) becomes clearly articulated. She emphatically sacrifices herself for her priorities: her brothersHcld. (

531-2) and Athens as well (Hcld. 503-5). She rejects marriage for the glory she will gain with her sacrifice Hcld. ( 591-2). Death for her priorities withholds the life she would have as a married woman (Hcld. 579-80).

A more sustained and emotive presentation of this stark choice is found inIphigenia in

Aulis.646 Iphigenia also chooses duty to ountry c – and the kleos resulting from this action – over marriage, only in this case she chooses between a marriage which is very close to being real (and not a hypothetical one) and death.647 Iphigenia sacrifices her marriage and herself for Greece I.A. ( 1378-1401 passim).648 It is of course true that

Iphigenia does not have complete liberty to choose; her freedom is only relative.649 The decision on her death has already been taken without her permission and Achilles’ efforts to save her were ineffectual, primarilybecause of pressure from the army (I.A.

1349-57).650 In this sense any decision by Iphigenia is in a practical sense irrelevant.

However, in the end she chooses to die voluntarily for her country and the glory

646 The text of Iphigenia at Aulis is notoriously corrupt, but this goes beyond the scope of my present discussion. See the recent treatments of Michelakis (2006)- 114, 105 Gurd (2005), Kovacs (2003), Michelakis (2002) 128-42. 647 Cf. Badnall (2008) 207. 648 Cf. Foley (2001) 123, Badnall (2008) 205-6. This choice resembles Menoeceus’ choice to sacrifice his life for his homeland in thePhoenissae (Pho. 996ff.: ἐλευθερώσω γαῖαν (Pho. 1012); cf. Foley (2001) 123-4). 649 Cf. Foley (2001) 124 who believes that Iphigenia made her choice to die ‘under unbearable pressure’ and sees her choice very much as a matter of attachment and commitment to the nataloikos and mainly her father. Cf. also Badnall (2008) 198-9. 650 Cf. Badnall (2008) 202 fn. 659. 168 resulting from this sacrifice (κατθανεῖν μέν μοι δέδοκται· τοῦτο δ’ αὐτὸ βούλομαι /

εὐκλεῶς πρᾶξαι, I.A. 1375-6, cf. I.A. 1383-4).651 This is not a mere submission after a vain resistance. The ideals that she expresses in her speech I.A.( 1378ff. passim) and her values confirm this freedom of action652. Even in her decision speech she has not changed653 – as Aristotle thought Poe ( . 1454a31-3: τοῦ δὲ ἀνωμάλου ἡ ἐν Αὐλίδι

Ἰφιγένεια˙ οὐδὲν γὰρ ἔοικεν ἡ ἱκετεύουσα τῇ ὑστέρᾳ); she remains theparthenos she was in the beginning, only she has been improved in her character and mentality.654 She has now become a heroic figure.655

Her priority is Greece and its salvationI.A. ( 1378ff., esp. 1384, 1397, 1420, 1473-4).

But the way she expresses this choice deserves particular attention. This Iphigenia envisages her sacrifice in terms of a wedding, agamos (I.A. 1399).656 She describes her choice as a marriage to her priorityI.A. ( 1397), a truly remarkable expression: she is

651 Cf. Badnall (2008) 198-9. McDonald (1990) argues that Iphigenia’s decision to sacrifice herself is not only due the love for her country but also due to herphilia for her father and Achilles. I do not think that this idea is very much encouraged by the text. 652 Iphigenia’s values as expressed through her sacrifice are arete, megalopsychia and philia to her friends (Mc Donald (1990) 71-84). In I.A. Iphigenia is a typical innocent (see for instance I.A. 1380-1) parthenos, emotionally attached to her natal family and with the same wishes that everyparthenos had, namely gamos (cf. Foley (2001) 125). The only thing that is unique in her and varies from the social expectations is her superior way of thinking that leads her to sacrifice (cf. Foley (2001) 125). 653 Cf. Badnall (2008) 198-9. 654 Cf. Foley (2001) 124. 655 Griffin (1990) 148. 656 See Foley (1985) 76-8, Badnall (2008) 195-200. The chorus dance that she asks for I.A.( 1480-1) and in such a locale as Artemis’ meadow (I.A. 1463), all these prompt to her missed gamos and proteleia (I.A. 676) (Foley (1985) 76). She rejects any mourning from her mother and instead requests the ambiguous sound of a paean (I.A. 1437-8, 1442, 1467-9) (Foley (1985) 76, who further notes that here the function of the paean in ambiguous, as the paean was sung both in weddings and before the start of battles). In Foley’s (1985) 77 words: ‘Indeed, she brings to her acceptance of the sacrifice much of the form and content of her lost marriage, and her imagination has undoubtedly been stimulated and shaped by her preparations for it.’ In this context, Foley compares the bridal crowning of Iphigenia by Clytemnestra (I.A. 905) with the sacrificial one before her sacrifice (I.A. 1477-9) (Foley (1985) 76-8).

169 married to Greece (I.A. 1397).657 This expression is an hapax, which combines the most important thing in her life, the desire of her ‘previous’ life with her priority for which she sacrifices this desire. Pathos, as pity and admiration, is increased by the presentation of the sham marriage as a reality658 and by the plot, which at one point threatens to subvert the tradition and make the marriage real by having Achilles expressing the intention to marry her in his speech to the GreeksI.A. ( 1355-6: τὴν ἐμὴν μέλλουσαν

εὐνήν, cf. I.A. 1354, where the Greeks called him γάμων ... ἥσσον’),659 in the framework of his attempt to save her I.A.( 1350-1). Ultimately Achilles comes to admire her and again the language deserves attention: he declares that he would be μακάριος (μακάριον,

I.A. 1404) if he were to marry her (I.A. 1404-5; cf. 1411). The language is highly significant, since it echoes the traditionalmakarismos of the wedding song.660 He even proposes to marry her I.A.( 1412-3). The significance both of this proposal and of her choice is heightened by its (arrested) ritual context. The marriage ritual has already started from Argos, Clytemnestra has started performing the prenuptial rituals (cf. for instance I.A. 435-9, 639-11, 695-6, 718, 905), and has brought her daughter from her natal oikos to join her husband.661 Iphigenia too, has actually ‘already performed part of

657 Cf. Foley (1985) 76-7. 658 Foley (1985) 73-4, Badnall (2008) 188-9, 202. Indeed, Achilles is called Iphigenia’s husband (I.A. 908: ἐκλήθης γοῦν ταλαίνης παρθένου φίλος πόσις) in the play and Iphigenia his wife ( I.A. 904: τῇ τε λεχθείσῃ δάμαρτι σῇ, cf. I.A. 936: ἐμὴ φατισθεῖσ᾽, cf. also I.A. 1355); this must refer to rumours and talks in Argos where it was believed that Achilles would marry Iphigenia. 659 Badnall (2008) 186, 188-99, esp. 195. 660 Cf. Badnall (2008) 185. 661 Cf. Foley (1985) 68-78.

170 the wedding ritual’662 and begun her transition to the married status.663 She is very close to being a gyne.664

This choice gains in value in the background of the choices made by others, as is also the case in Antigone, to which I will come below. For within the constraints of her situation she behaves with greater freedom than both her father and Achilles, who are men. The first did not want to sacrifice his daughter but could not resist MenelausI.A. (

97-8) and the army (I.A. 513-42). The second struggles to save Iphigenia but in contrast to his Homeric archetype does not have the strength to resist the armyI.A. ( 1345-68).

Only Iphigenia is able to do what she really wants. She decides on the collective good and her own kleos, and on her own initiative. There is a genuine idealism behind her choice which is exhibited through the noble sentiments which she expresses in her final speech.665 In contrast to texts which treat her as the victim of Helen’s wrongdoing (for instance Ag. 205-47) she even chooses to see her sacrifice as a means of punishing the barbarians on behalf of Greece I.A.( 1378-82).666 Her noble choice is confirmed in the play by the visual representation of the kleos (I.A. 1605-8) which she gains through her

662 The play creates a wedding background. Of course marriage is present through the trick of Agamemnon but it is also constantly referred to by implication through the conflation of the rites of marriage and death. This is the effect, for instance, of the references to the wreath (I.A. 905, cf. 435-9) and the proteleia (I.A. 433-4, 718, 1111-3). The motif is also present in the use of the meadow as the locale of the sacrifice, which is a perversion of its original use ‘before a rapeor marriage’. In addition, wedding ritual is conflated with her imminent sacrifice in their common capacity as transitional passages in the first encounter of Iphigenia with her father (esp. I.A. 668-80, and 718-21). (On the conflation of marriage and death in the play see Foley (1985) 69-74, 77, and also Badnall (2008) 185208,- esp. 196-7, 206-7, who also discusses the issue of perversion of wedding in I.A.) 663 Foley (1985) 73-4. 664 Cf. Foley (1985) 73-4. 665 Cf. Foley (1985) 67, 75-8, who however interprets Iphigenia’s sacrifice in an ironic way. 666 On the association between Iphigenia and Helen in the I.A., see Badnall (2008) 202-3. 171 choice and which is now enacted in front of the Greek army and the audience.667 This remarkable prohairesis then is used to emphasize a paradox: female freedom versus male lack of it. This is not a blanket statement aboutthe relative freedom of the sexes.

Nothing changes in any practical sense in terms of the physical and social constraints on women. But it is a statement, of a sort beloved of tragedy, about the paradoxical mismatch between formal power and freedom. Two males with power and authority were not able to behave with freedom in a difficult circumstance, whereas a female was.

In Sophocles’ Antigone, Antigone’s choice too is not made in a vacuum. It is the response to Creon’s own choice between human laws and divine laws, andpolis and oikos. Although her initial choice is not given in terms of forfeit gamos of , the text makes clear that this is (in part) the cost to herAnt. (568, 648-58, for instance),668 missed marriage is used to articulate her choice at the peak of the dramatic pathos (Ant.

806-928 passim),669 and her resolution in the face of death Ant.( 891ff.) is expressed in terms of marriage versus other relationships.670 Not only does she retrospectively dwell on the price she pays for performing her duty her to brother, she also (if the text is sound) reflects on her decision Ant at . 891ff. in terms of alternative kinds of relationship, natal versus marital (Ant. 891-930, esp.898-9, 900-3, 905-15).671 She says that she would not take the same challenge for a husband or a family from marriage:

οὐ γάρ ποτ᾽ οὔτ᾽ ἂν εἰ τέκν’ ὧν μήτηρ ἔφυν

667 Zeitlin (1995a) 190-3. 668 Ormand (1999) 79-80. 669 Lines Ant. 904-20, which include the articulation of Antigone’s priorities throughgamos , have been challenged. Most scholars now treat them as genuine, see West (1999) esp.129; cf. Segal (1981) 201, Murnaghan (1986). 670 Neuburg (1990) 62, Foley (2001) 174-6, Badnall (2008) 117-8, 120-1, 123. 671 Seaford (1994) 217; cf. Murnaghan (1986) 198, Badnall (2008) 116-8.

172

οὔτ᾽ εἰ πόσις μοι κατθανὼν ἐτήκετο,

βίᾳ πολιτῶν τόνδ᾽ ἂν ᾐρόμην πόνον (Ant. 905-7).

Her complete rejection of marriage672 is evident in that she disregards Haemon673 and only refers to her marriage in abstract terms674.675

As (part of) the cost of her choiceAnt ( . 916-8; cf. 891-2) missed marriage articulates

Antigone’s priorities: her philoi, her natal oikos (Ant. 898-903)676, the real sophrosyne

(Ant. 904), the nomos and dike of gods (Ant. 921-4; cf. 925-8)677, piety (Ant. 924, 943), natal – and not marital – family over polis (Ant. 907)678. As a woman who conceives nomos, dike and sophrosyne in personal terms,679 her priorities are not rationalistic, but private, personal and strongly emotional but, despite that, eternal. 680 At this point in the play, where the decision and the portrayal of Antigone as a tragic heroine have been established, the missed gamos motif explores the other aspect of Antigone’s decision, the emotional one. Even from this viewpoint Antigone decisively stays firm on her

672 Cf. Badnall (2008) 117. 673 It is interesting that when Antigone confronts (Murnaghan (1986) 195) for first time the fact that in effect she has sacrificed hermarriage for burying her brotherAnt ( . 806-928 passim), she makes no specific reference to Haemon whatsoever (cf. Badnall (2008) 114). 674 Cf. Murnaghan (1986) 198. 675 Cf. Badnall (2008) 114. 676 Cf. Badnall (2008) 117-8. 677 Segal (1981) 168-70. 678 Cf. Badnall (2008) 117-8. 679 Cf. Segal (1981) 157. Both Creon and Antigone understandnomos and dike in different and personal terms (Segal (1981) 168-70). The degree to which Creon’s decree is a law has been challenged (Harris (2004)) but Antigone seems to treat it as a nomos, too. 680 Segal (1981) 173, 201.

173 decision and remains unchanged,681 albeit realizing her loneliness682 and pained by her loss of marriage.683

There is however more at issue than Antigone’s choice. To understand Antigone’s prohairesis, we must view her actions in the framework of similar choices made by the other important characters in this play. Practically everyone in this tragedy makes a prohairesis, and chooses only one priority. The main choices in this play arepolis and oikos, natal family versus marriage, promised bride (marriage) versus natal family, child versus husband. Antigone makes a choice regarding the first two fields; Haemon chose among the third set of denominators, and Eurydice the fourth. But the greatest interest, after Antigone, falls on Creon. Creon in his speech to Haemon prioritizes the natal oikos over marriage (Ant. 648ff., cf. 568-9) and demands that he choose his father over his promised bride and marriage. This is precisely what Antigone chose, her natal family.

And this is what Creon violated by denying the proper funeral rites to Polyneices and sentencing Antigone to death instead of providing for her marriage, as his niece.684 It is

Creon who has created this polarization of relationships, values and commitments.

The motif of missedgamos is used in a unique, complicated but also interestingly inverted way in Euripides’ Hecuba. As in the other cases, the missedgamos is used to create pathos and highlight the importance of the chosen priority. Polyxena prefers to lose her marriage Hec. ( 416, 421) for her personal priority, her social status and

681 See in contrast Schlichtmann (2006) 49, 52. 682 Schlichtmann (2006) 52. 683 Cf. Badnall (2008) 117-8. 684 Cf. Segal (1981) 177-8.

174 dignity:685 a life and a marriage according to her original station (Hec. 365-6; cf. 352-3).

In choosing686 death Polyxena claims that her other alternative was a life as slave Hec.(

362-4) and a marriage to a slave (Hec. 365-6). This she rejects unequivocally (Hec. 367) and in so doing she dies as a daughter of Priam (Hec. 550-2, cf. 349-50).

The use of the motif here is highly unusual. Thegamos here dismissed is a degrading marriage687 and not an ideal state,like the marriages dismissed by the other maidens.

Precisely because of this reason, this particular rejection perfectly underlines Polyxena’s absolute refusal to compromise regarding her life. The motif of rejected marriage underscores the paradigmatic courage and nobility of Polyxena.

This is more however than a courageous act by a socially and politically powerless victim of war. The epic associations here are not as clear as in the case of Iphigenia in

I.A. and yet the implications are still here. Death as a free and deliberate decision gives it an heroic quality.688 If rejected marriage relates Polyxena to all these maidens in

Greek tragedy who dismissed their gamos for a higher priority, Polyxena’s own priority

685 Cf. Badnall (2008) 207. Polyxena emphatically insists on this prestige of hers, her innate and inherent nobility and remarkably high status Hec ( . 354-5, 365-7, 374, cf. 3701- and 378). She underlines this superior status when she presents herself ἴση θεοῖσι (Hec. 356) in her previous life (cf. Roselli (2007) 136, fn. 177; Collard (1991) ad 374). 686 Polyxena’s choice is emphasized in the text to such an extent that it has struck critics as excessive (Collard (1991) ad 211-5). This is a free choice: although at first in a very realsense Polyxena is not free, as reflected in her initial reluctance, this soon changes and death becomes her own deliberate decision, as she herself proclaims at the very time of her executionHec. 550 ( -1). The context highlights the importance of dying free again and again in the text (Hec. 213-5, 346-9, 367-8, 375-8). This stresses even more her self-determination (cf. Gregory (1999) ad 346-7). 687 Euripides here invents a degrading marriage for Polyxena, which would normally be impossible according to epic and tragic narrative patterns: Polyxena would not be married to a slave, as she claims (Hec. 365-7, cf. 362-4); as a high status female she would probably become a concubine to one of the Greek generals (Scodel (1998) 144-5). By making her a mere normal slave Euripides deprives her future life from any ‘distinction’ that she may have had and he invents for her the most humiliating alternative. 688 Gregory (1999) ad 342-78.

175 associates her more with the moral values of the epic hero; she opts forkleos over life.

She dies to keep her noble name untainted by slavery Hec( . 347-80, esp. 374-8, 550-2).

The heroic ethos resounded here is underscored by her refusal to be aφιλόψυχος γυνή

(Hec. 348).689 The missed gamos dilemma here is unique for its epic and heroic impact.

Polyxena’s decision to opt for death andkleos is confirmed in the scene of her death.

Implications of missedgamos are part of this poetic process: Neoptolemus holds

Polyxena’s hand to escort her to her sacrifice Hec.( 523-4); the right hand gesture was symbolic of the wedding rituals. This grasp takes place in the frame of the ritual of the sacrifice, easing in hints at the ritual ofgamos , and thus almost presents her as a bride.

After her death, the Achaeans throw leaves on Polyxena: φύλλοις ἔβαλλον (Hec. 574).

Wedding ritual is here conflated with athletic victory in order to reinforcethe glory of

Polyxena. So, her death is greeted like an athletic victoryHec. ( 579-80). These leaves are the prize for her heroic death,690 but they also hint at the makarismos of the newly- wed pair, subsuming under victory celebration the makarismos of a bride. This marriage aspect may be contained in the other honours she receives, namely peplon the and kosmos (Hec. 578).691 Finally, the account of the death of Polyxena emphasizes her beauty, in a similar way to the Sapphic epithalamion.692 Her breasts are ὡς ἀγάλματος /

κάλλιστα (Hec. 560-1). This erotic dimension of her death693 reinforces the motif of

689 φιλόψυχος has martial connotations; Polyxena expresses herself as if she were a Homeric warrior (Mossman (1995) 160-1). 690 Mossman (1995) 160-1. 691 The motif of missed marriage may also be present in Polyxena’s death scene through the exhibition of her body which recalls her previous conspicuous appearance among the other Trojan girls. 692 Cf. Badnall (2008) 40-1, 45-6, cf. 37. 693 The erotic dimension entails an element of risk by Euripides. The (naked) statues with whom Polyxena is compared are to some degree eroticized (Stieber (2011) 145-50, esp. 145-6). Nevertheless, the narrative defuses the potential risks. Polyxena controls the exposition of her body, covering what should not be 176 missed marriage, since it also points to what marriage means in purely personal terms for bride and groom. The effect of this complex use of the motif of missedgamos is to make the girl’s situation more pitiable as well as to illustrate herethos (Hec. 346-9), exhibit her as anagalma (Hec. 560-1) and generate respect (cf.Hec. 577-80) and admiration for her (cf. Hec. 591-2). The Greeks respond to her death with honours and they do not touch her body (cf.Hec . 573, 578) as she herself had ordered Hec( . 548-

9).694 Polyxena succeeded in her pursuit of kleos through her death.

There was a strong tendency in ancient Greece to regard women as dangerous and as causing trouble when acting as independent moral agents.695 It is true that there are disruptive women in Greek tragedy, such as Clytemnestra inAgamemnon , or Hermione in Andromache. Nevertheless, with regard to the decisionmaking- of the parthenoi, this is certainly not the case. These women do not act and cause disruption but act because of the disruption.696 It is the men who usually generate the crisis which prompts their actions by subverting or disrupting the ideals for which the women stand, as we saw above that Creon did.697

shown Hec ( . 568-70), defusing any tendency toward a purely sexual voyeurism. Furthermore, in presenting her nudity Euripides is careful to operate within the limits of what the fifth century would allow in art, when the female form is at most - seminude. Euripides’ success in defusing this risk is confirmed by the reaction of the intratextual audience (Zeitlin (1991) 73), as I explain below in my main text. (See in contrast Badnall (2008) 18, fn. 56.) 694 Zeitlin (1991) 73. 695 Hall (1997) 106ff. stresses the disruptive nature of the decisions taken by women, and virgins without a kyrios. 696 Cf. in contrast Badnall (2008) 114-5. 697 Cf. Badnall (2008) 123. It appears then that female prohairesis violates Aristotle’s view of the female character and ethos, which are also expressed in the Arist.Pol. 1260a11-5 (the text is taken from Rackham (1944)): ἄρχει καὶ τὸ ἄρρεν τοῦ θήλεος καὶ ἀνὴρ παιδός. καὶ πᾶσιν ἐνυπάρχει μὲν τὰ μόρια τῆς ψυχῆς, ἀλλ᾽ ἐνυπάρχει διαφερόντως˙ ὁ μὲν γὰρ δοῦλος ὅλως οὐκ ἔχει τὸ βουλευτικόν, τὸ δὲ θῆλυ ἔχει μέν, ἀλλ᾽ ἄκυρον, ὁ δὲ παῖς ἔχει μέν, ἀλλ᾽ ἀτελές, as well as in the Poetics: καὶ γὰρ γυνή ἐ στιν χρηστὴ καὶ

177

4. Articulating loss: the individual, the oikos and the polis in the case of male lost nuptials

Missed marriage operates in a different way in the case of males due to the different implications of marriage in their case. As we saw in the Introduction, given the firm interconnection of marriage, polis and oikos in Greek and especially Athenian cultural ideology, marriage was crucial not only because it fulfilled the individual but most importantly because it provided the continuation of the lineof the oikos (sc. of the male), as well as of the body of the legitimate citizens of thepolis .698 This immediate association of male marriage with theoikos and the polis comes up in the case of

Hippolytus. Here too we haveprohairesis . Hippolytus deliberately misses699 marriage and what this means for the individual, the oikos and the polis, electing for a completely opposite lifestyle. InHippolytus , his rejection of marriage represents profoundly problematic behaviour.700 Apart from the religious implications of his exclusive devotion to Artemis and disregard for Aphrodite, it signifies his failure to do his duty to the oikos701 and more generally it illustrates an aberrant way of life, completely opposite

δοῦλος, καίτοι γε ἴσως τούτων τ ὸ μὲν χεῖρον, τὸ δὲ ὅλως φαῦλόν ἐστιν (Poe.1454a19-21; the text is cited after Halliwell (1995)). This is his view in theRhetoric as well: καὶ αἱ τῶν φύσει σπουδαιοτέρων ἀρεταὶ καλλίους καὶ τὰ ἔργα, οἷον ἀνδρὸς ἢ γυναικός (Rhet. 1.9.22/1367a16-18; the text follows Freese (1926)). See on this issue Foley (2001) 109-11, especially p. 110 fn. 7, where she has more references to Aristotle’s views on female insufficiency. See also above p. 167, fn. 643 on Foley’s positive approach to the issue of female decision taking. For Creon, see above, p. 174. 698 See Introduction, pp. 20-1; cf. Seaford (1994) 206-9. 699 This prohairesis is not a forced but an elective dilemma, a wilful option with uncontrolled consequences which ultimately destroys the individual. 700 Cf. Hall (1997) 95, 104. As Hall (1997) 978- argues, the ‘displacement’ out of the community was a frequent theme in Greek tragedy. 701 Gieseler (2007) 8-12. Of course according to the real Athenian standards Hippolytus was not a legitimate citizen, he was a nothos as is mentioned or hinted at several times in the play Hipp.( 10, 307- 10, 351, 581-2). However, the reality of tragedy is a mixed reality (Hall (1997) 100) and the play has

178 to the civic cultural prerequisites. In the case of males then wilful dismissal ofgamos articulates the negation of cultural and social expectations and the ramifications of this choice for the individual.

This is particularly expressed through Hippolytus’ death and illustrated in the choral lyrics of Hipp. 1131ff. The expectations of the community and Hippolytus’ choices are juxtaposed and contrasted in an ironic way,702 underlining the distorted nature of his way of life.703 This stasimon mourns Hippolytus’ exile in its most important social dimension: marriage and personal fulfilment. Exile (φυγᾷ σᾷ, Hipp. 1140-1) means that he will never be able to marry and will miss his fulfilment, since he cannot be married outside his society. Missed gamos equals the destitution of the oikos, of the burial and continuously repeated funeral rites, which provide a certain kind of continuation of one’s existence after death,704 the deprivation of the polis, which was the worst possible punishment for a citizen. Denial of marriage articulates not only his own choice to miss his telos but also his rejection of life in society. These two realities-exist co in this stasimon and give a powerful expression of the result of Hippolytus’ prohairesis.

As mentioned above, missed gamos in the archaeological sources surviving is lamented more for girls than boys. In the case of girls, missed gamos was a reason for sorrow and

illustrated Hippolytus’ rejection of the oikos and the society, as I will show below. Thus hisnothos status should not be considered as a problem. For a very different reading of Hippolytus’ behaviour as a digression regarding hisoikos and polis see Mitchell-Boyask (1999) who reads Hippolytus as an ephebe. 702 Swift (2006) 125-9, 137-9. 703 Cf. Swift (2006) 129. 704 Rehm (1994) 7 with many references to primary material for the importance of funeral rites for a citizen of the polis and also Rehm (1994) 160-1 fn. 42.

179 this was explicitly expressed in the epigrams on their tombs. In the case of the males this loss was lamented but this was done implicitly – and in the framework of other offerings

– through the vases on the tombs of young unmarried boys.705

The picture we get from drama (including comedy) is more or less consonant with the archaeological one in terms of relative frequency; but there is a variation in that tragedy addresses more explicitly the implications of lost gamos in the case of males. Although this is very seldom for the girls, in their laments for their young sons, mothers in tragedy particularly refer to and mourn the missedgamos of their sons, or their own missed participation in it. This is initially surprising. But probably again the reason lies in the fact that the death of the boys had more serious implications both for theoikos and the polis, far beyond those caused by the death of girls.

This is not to say that mothers did not feel pain for their unmarried daughters. We have seen that missed gamos of parthenoi is a motif which can generate greatpathos. 706 In addition, in contexts which do not involve funeral laments and death, painis expressed in references to the contingency of the loss ofgamos of girls, both in comedy and in tragedy, as does for instance Aristophanes Lys. in 593: περὶ τῶν δὲ κορῶν ἐν τοῖς

θαλάμοις γηρασκουσῶν ἀνιῶμαι (cf. Lys. 596-7). Euripides’ chaste Helen also worries about her daughter’s lost chances for marriage and this issue distresses her among other thoughts (Hel. 282-3; cf. 688-90). This is also one of Alcestis’ Alc( . 315ff.) sources of anguish. Sophocles presents his audience with the only father that expresses grief and

705 See Introduction, pp. 23-4, and p. 154. 706 Cf. Badnall (2008) 118-9. 180 concern for the bleak future of his daughters and their fateO.T. ( 1489ff.).707 However, missed gamos in the case of girls does not usually figure in maternal laments for their death.

This use for the males who die young and unmarried, though striking, is still not frequent in tragedy. For instance when Hecuba learns that Polydorus died, she does not utter a word about his missed gamos. The relative rarity means that the extant instances of the male missed gamos probably carry extra dramatic weight.

Another striking feature of these laments is the speaker. In the cases of males who died before getting married, no male expresses grief for his loss of marriage andtelos . In other words the sons themselves do not speak of the issue. The pain for this missed transition is articulated by the mothers only in their laments. The allocation of the grief to the mother focalizes the loss from a family perspective;also it allows a level of emotion which would seem self-indulgent in a male. Indeed, due to the importance of a mother’s role in marriage rituals, the mother’s grief is a remarkably effective way of articulating larger losses to the individual and cruciallyto the family. At the end of the procession towards the new oikos, it was the mother who received the couple, not the father. Instead of promoting the continuation of theiroikos through the reception of the couple in the oikos, they lament a death which is an obstacle to the perpetuation of the line. This, combined with the fact that a mother’s love makes her pain the most intense, shows why the mother’s lament became an excellent vehicle indeed for the expression

707 See above, pp. 155-7. 181 of the losses of the oikos. Marriage sums up and intensifies this loss, the life that might have been and the lost promise for the oikos.

Although the lament for male missed gamos is predominantly in the context of death, as so often in tragedy, there are exceptions. In the case of Polyneices missed nuptials are mourned, although Polyneices had not died yet. What facilitates here the use of the motif is that death hangs over the story of the two brothers. A second reason is probably that exile was considered as a kind of civic death. With this background, Jocasta’s mourning in the Phoenissae is used explicitly to pronounce the loss to theoikos and the polis due to the missed nuptials of Polyneices’. This is (at least for his mother) a missed gamos, in terms of the missed participation of theoikos ; the wedding ritual took place out of the context of oikos his and polis (ἀνυμέναια δ’ Ἱσμηνὸς ἐκηδεύθη /

λουτροφόρου χλιδᾶς, Pho. 347-9), contrary to ancient Greek norms (cf.Pho . 345:

νόμιμον [ἐν γάμοις] ὡς πρέπει).708 The procession towards Polyneices’ oikos never took place (Pho. 348-9). What especially pains Jocasta as a mother is that she did not hold the torch to receive the newly-wed couple to their new home (ἐγὼ δ᾽ οὔτι σοι πυρὸς ἀνῆψα

φῶς / νόμιμον [ἐν γάμοις] ὡς πρέπει ματέρι μακαρίᾳ, Pho. 344-5). And more importantly his society – here represented by the river Ismenos– did not validate the union (Pho. 346-7). Jocasta repeatedly presents Polyneices’ marriage not as marriage abroad but as a missedgamos (ἀνυμέναια δ᾽ Ἱσμηνὸς ἐκηδεύθη / λουτροφόρου

χλιδᾶς, ἀνὰ δὲ Θηβαίων / πόλιν ἐσίγαθεν σᾶς ἔσοδοι νύμφας, Pho. 346-9; cf. 337-43) both for her Pho ( . 345-6) and her oikos (Pho. 344-5, 348-9) and the polis of Thebes

708 Swift (2009a) 60. 182

(ἀνυμέναια δ᾽ Ἱσμηνὸς ἐκηδεύθη / λουτροφόρου χλιδᾶς, ἀνὰ δὲ Θηβαίων / πόλιν

ἐσίγαθεν σᾶς ἔσοδοι νύμφας, Pho. 346-9).

The problem in missedgamos is compounded by the nature of the marriage which substituted for this. It involves marriage not merely outside the family (cf. Pho. 337-40) but outside the city. It is a marriage with an enemy of the city and it is contracted against the good of the city (Pho. 77-80; cf. 1628-9).709

This brings us to the effect of the lost marriage of the males on theirpolis . Due to their important role as citizens of the polis and heads of the oikoi which formed the polis, this absence has ramifications for the larger civic society. This is most explicitly pronounced in the case of the Trojan royal oikos. In the Trojan Women it is not only the extinction of the oikos but most importantly the destruction of Troy that is figured. This play draws together the laments of the women of Troy after the city’s sack. Through these laments there is a systematic effort to express their acute pain at the destruction of Troy, the disasters and the deaths that its citizens faced, all the violence and the damage that resulted from the war.710 It is natural then that Euripides chose the lament of the queen711 of the destroyed city, Hecuba, as the cap of all these laments, in order to give the final emphasis to what has been lost.712 The articulation of collective loss through the missed

709 Swift (2009a) 58-60; cf. Badnall (2008) 123. 710 Barlow (1986) 37. 711 Cf. Goff (2009) 75. 712 This is perhaps the reason Euripides chose this death to be lamented not by the mother (cf. Goff (2009) 74 on this issue), Andromache, but by the grandmother at Andromache’s’ requestTro. 1142 ( -4). Andromache is taken away by the Greeks by ship (Tro. 1129-33). Her inability to mourn for her son (Tro. 1133-35, 1145-6) and her request to Hecuba is mentioned just before Hecuba’s lament as if this was a way to make Hecuba’s lament more legitimate, since it was unusual to have the grandmother mourn and not the mother. This is also indicated by the appellation of Hecuba as ‘mother’ atTro . 1229 (cf. Goff (2009) 74-5, cf. also Dyson and Lee (2000) 21 on the extension of the pain for Astyanax from Andromache to

183 gamos of the male receives unusual emphasis here; there is no other lament in Greek tragedy so bleak as this.713

Behind Hecuba’s mourning there is her lament for Hector in Iliad the ,714 though the person lamented is not of course Hector, who has been long dead, but the last survivor of the line of Priam, Astyanax. Hecuba grieves for the missedgamos of Astyanax, replaced by untimely death (Tro. 1209-15 and 1218-25). If Astyanax had lived to marry, he would continue the Trojan oikos and then take revenge and re-establish Troy.715 His gamos would mean hope for the restoration of Troy (Tro. 1194-5). Its loss stands for the end of the royal line of Troy:716

ὦ φίλταθ᾽, ὥς σοι θάνατος ἦλθε δυστυχής.

εἰ μὲν γὰρ ἔθανες πρὸ πόλεως ἥβης τυχὼν

γάμων τε καὶ τῆς ἰσοθέου τυραννίδος,

μακάριος ἦσθ᾽ ἄν, εἴ τι τῶνδε μακάριον (Tro.1167-70).

It also stands then for the expectations717 and the promises that Astyanax was supposed to fulfil that were not realized Tro( . 1180-1), as the emphatic metaphoricalἐ ψεύσω at

Hecuba). Andromache herself when she learns that Astyanax will ied laments for this but expresses her pain for her own gamos (Tro. 745), not for the definitely missed one of her child. 713 Dyson and Lee (2000) 25. 714 The prototype on which Euripides is building is Hecuba’s laments firstly encountered in theIliad . In the Iliad Hecuba in the role of the mourning mother laments the death of Hector at two places, firstly atIl . 22.431-6 when she learns of her son’s death and then atIl . 24.746-59. The first lament is the important one for my purposes. As Euripides’ Hecuba, Homer’s Hecuba, as suits her as the queen of Troy, views Hector’s loss from the aspect of thepolis . She devotes 4.5 out of her 6 lines stressing this loss for the polis (Il.432-6) and only the first 1.5 lines have to do with the personal side of her grief for Hector’s death as the mother. 715 Cf. Dyson and Lee (2000) 23. 716 Cf. Lee (1976) ad 1169, and ad 1171-2, and Dyson and Lee (2000) 17, 28. 717 Cf. Lee (1976) ad 1218-20.

184

1181 shows.718 The missed marriage in uniting Troy’s past, present and future stands for the very notion of Troy itself.719

This association of missed gamos with lost future recurs in Euripides’ Heracles 454-84, in Megara’s lament for her sons Her( . 476-9, 481-4). Here the motif takes the form of the metaphor par excellence for dead virgins, marriage to deathHer ( . 481-4). Again what really matters for Megara is the glorious life of which her sons were deprived. Lost marriage itself serves as the vehicle to express the losses, encapsulating all the future potential of Heracles’ oikos. This is the last thing she mourns for and the peak of pathos.

But in this particular lament there is a deep irony. Megara mourns these losses when she and her family were facing seemingly certain death at the hands of Lycus. They were eventually saved by Heracles, but Megara and her children are ultimately killed by

Heracles himself while in a state of madness sent by the gods. This lament is then a kind of ironic preamble. Throughout these lines Megara stressed the plans for the future of the oikos, an issue on which the play focuses throughout.720 Yet the agent of its destruction was its headHer ( . 1279-80), the personwho most emphatically was presented right from the beginning of the play and during the whole of its first part as their protector721 and only hope for salvation (Her. 490ff., cf. 69-81), and who had even already confirmed these expectations (Her. 521-2). Therefore the effect of the use of the

718 Cf. Lee (1976) ad loc, and Barlow (1986) ad loc; cf. Dyson and Lee (2000) 23. 719 Cf. Lee (1976) ad 1169, and ad 1171-2, and Dyson and Lee (2000) 28. 720 Griffiths (2006) 65. 721 Heracles is shown as a family man (Griffiths (2006) 72-3).

185 motif of the missedgamos is that the annihilation of theoikos is presented as more poignant.

The only exception to the almost exclusive presence of missedgamos in the mothers’ laments for the death of males in Greek tragedy and notof females is Euripides’

Hecuba. Here, pain for Polyxena’s missed gamos is expressed in Hecuba’s lament. The burial that Hecuba chooses for her daughter is closely related to her lost nuptials:ὡς

παῖδα λουτροῖς τοῖς πανυστάτοις ἐμήν, / νύμφην τ’ ἄνυμφον παρθένον τ’ ἀπάρθενον, /

λούσω προθῶμαί θ’ – ὡς μὲν ἀξία, πόθεν; (Hec. 611-13). Missed gamos in the case of

Polyxena is very important thematically. Polyxena herself stressed the fact that slavery deprived her of a worthy marriage and based her decision to die on the fact that servitude threatened her with a socially degrading match.722 Hecuba’s account brings again to the minds of the audience the image of her daughter’s brave decisions. If

Polyxena articulated her lost life and future in terms of her missedgamos to express her decision to die, Hecuba articulates her daughter’s lost future in terms of her missed gamos, complementing Polyxena’s statements by presenting the loss as a counterpoint to her nobility.

5. The language of non-gamos as an expression of distortion and perversion723

The language of absence of marriage can be used more or less literally, as in the examples above. But in Greek literature it is also employed to characterize marriages which were literally not consummated, and, more importantly, as metaphor to speak

722 See above, pp. 174-7. 723 See ch. 4, where more iteral treatments of this motif are discussed. 186 about unions which encompass elements of distortion and perversion. A case which belongs to the first category is Euripides’Electra . Electra is married (Eur.El. 34-5) but the union was never consummated and is in this sense missed (Eur. 43-4).El. Its incomplete status is due to the deviant nature of this union. Although consummation had no legal significance for the validity of the marriage, the unanimous assumption

(explicit in the attention which the subject receives both from theautourgos and from

Orestes) is that marriage is followed by sex and ideally by childbirth. Electra’s marriage is marriage arrested. She has left her nataloikos and cohabits with her husband but is still a virgin. She and the autourgos have gone through all the rituals but not the final act and she is thus in limbo.

The reason lies in its distorted nature. Electra herself describes it as a θανάσιμος γάμος

(cf. θανάσιμον γάμον, Eur.El. 247). She is married below her station. In the text it is emphasized that there is a social gap (Eur.El. 46, 249) between her and her poor, albeit noble, husband (Eur.El. 37-8, 64-5, cf. 253). Although she is ashamedof her missed marriage (Eur.El. 311),724 her main concern is that this alliance is a disgrace to her

(θανάσιμον γάμον, Eur.El. 247; στυγερᾶς ζόας, Eur.El. 121, cf. 181-2, 303ff.). Despite her royal origin (Eur.El. 186-7) she lives poorly, doing humble tasks (Eur.El. 55-58,

303ff.). But marriage and social status go hand in hand. Since thisgamos is socially

724 Electra is ashamed of her virginity because she is at an age when a woman should be performing her full marital role.

187 unsuitable for Electra, it results in her social degradation and shame, which she feels deeply (Eur.El. 45-9, 175-89, cf. 310-3).725

The distortion is more than one of social status, however, since the marriage is considered by the autourgos too as invalid, because Aegisthus was not Electra’skyrios

(Eur.El. 259). Moreover, this is a union contrary to the purposes of marriage in ancient

Greece. Marriage was supposed to provide for the continuation of theoikos . In this case it is arranged precisely in order to stop this continuation: Aegisthus and Clytemnestra planned this marriage in order to deprive the oikos of a successor of equal status (Eur.El.

39, cf. 22-6), who would take revenge (Αγαμέμνονος ποινάτορ’, Eur.El. 23) and restore

Agamemnon’s oikos (Eur.El. 40-2).726 Instead this marriage would produce poor offspring of low status and thus powerless. This would prevent revenge, block the continuation of Agamemnon’s line and arrest the development of Agamemnon’soikos

(Eur.El. 22-42, 268-9).727

Instead of the re-integration of the new oikos into the polis,728 the result in this case is that Electra is marginalized both physically and socially: she lives, socially degraded, on the borders of Argos.729 Her social and sexual marginalization in the playis figured by her marginal location. Electra stands on two boundaries: She is half girl and half woman

725 Zeitlin (1970) 649-51; cf. Papadimitropoulos (2008) 117-8. This issue is dealt with in greater detail in the next section, pp. 193-201, esp. 194-7. 726 It is true that the real continuation of the oikos would have been provided by Orestes, who is the exiled son of the oikos (Eur.El. 15-8). It is equally true that Electra in Orestes’ absence is in some sense in the position of the epikleros and therefore perceived as capable of providing an heir to her father’s oikos. 727 Despite the obvious similarities this constitutes a difference from Sophocles’ Electra, where Aegisthus and Clytemnestra were trying to block continuation of Agamemnon’s line by preventing the girls from getting married and producing heirs, as we will see below on pp. 197-9 (cf. Badnall (2008) 121, 124). 728 Cf. Badnall (2008) 79. 729 Zeitlin (1970) 649-51; cf. Papadimitropoulos (2008) 117-8.

188 and physically she is at the borders of Argos and also both socially and physically on the edge of Argive society.

The main use of the language of non-gamos is however the metaphorical one. In this case perverted unions are called non-gamoi by a typical tragic linguistic device.730 This negative language is used to demonstrate the irregularity of these relationships. There is also a larger social disordern these i marriages and this concerns their terrible consequences. The ramifications of the marriages in question go far beyond the individuals involved: children unable to marry, oikoi destroyed, countries threatened.731

These factors are present in the cases of Electra’s (in Sophocles), Hermione’s, and

Antigone’s and Ismene’s.

In the cases of the first group, it is the social perversion of the parental marriages that cause the loss of the chance to get married and more generally the social rejection of the children.732 This is one of the factors that reinforce the grief and pain of Oedipus and

Helen. In Euripides’ Helen, the reputation of Helen’s agamos733 marriage (Hel. 690) to

Paris is a hindrance for her daughter’s marriage. In this case, in contrast to

Clytemnestra’s perverted ‘non’-marriage to Aegisthus, it is Helen herself who calls her disreputable alleged union to Paris a nongamos- . This strong negative description reflects the strength of her personal feelings. It is firstly grief, because she lays the blame on herself for what has happened both to her daughter Hel( . 689-90) and mother

730 Breitenbach (1934) 237, Fehling (1968) 142-55, Fehling (1969) 287-9, Kannicht (1969) on Hel. 363. 731 Cf. Allan (2008) ad loc, Burian (2007) ad loc, Badnall (2008) 79. 732 Badnall (2008) 111-2, esp. 123. 733 This marriage is agamos in two senses: first because it literally did not take place, but also, since for the Greeks it was real, agamos denotes the fact that it was an infamous alliance. 189

(Hel. 686-7) due to the story of her relationship with Paris; but also indignation and despair. The effect is to express with greater vividness and intensity Helen’s shame, self-blame (†αἰσχύνα†, Hel. 690) when she thinks of her daughter’s distress for her own lost marriage and distress due to her mother’s notorietyHel . ( 688-90). Though this union never took place, this does not affect the social consequences; society treatsit as both actual and perverted.

This is a further ramification which is explored O.T. in , although in this case the problem is not only the guilt arising from their actions but more than that the horror with which the products of Oedipus’ incest are viewed and the social stigma attached to the whole family; they are effectively outcasts within their community. This is a far more serious distortion than that in Helen, because it is a perversion of nature and not just a social impropriety. Oedipus has killed his father and married his mother. It is the result of these very actions, both the patricide and the incestuousgamos , the non-gamos (O.T.

1214-5, 1255-7), that his daughters are going to miss their owngamoi , to his distress

(O.T. 1492-5, 1500-2). But moreover, the outcome of Oedipus’ perverted marriage is the social exclusion of his daughters: they can participate in no civic events (O.T. 1489-91); they carry a burden of shame and noone- will marry them (O.T. 1492-5, 1500-2). They are social outcasts.

But nowhere is the social perversion explored in more detail than in the case of

Clytemnestra’s perverted marriage in Sophocles, which is a gamos non- for Electra

(ἄλεκτρ’ ἄνυμφα ... / γάμων ἁμιλλήμαθ’, Soph.El. 493-4). Here at the core of Electra’s

190 suffering is Clytemnestra’s socially distorted behaviour and marriage.734 Her union with

Aegisthus is a social betrayal:

εἰ γὰρ θέλεις, δίδαξον ἀνθ’ ὅτου τανῦν

αἴσχιστα πάντων ἔργα δρῶσα τυγχάνεις,

ἥτις ξυνεύδεις τῷ παλαμναίῳ, μεθ’ οὗ

πατέρα τὸν ἀμὸν πρόσθεν ἐξαπώλεσας,

καὶ παιδοποιεῖς, τοὺς δὲ πρόσθεν εὐσεβεῖς

κἀξ εὐσεβῶν βλαστόντας ἐκβαλοῦσ’ ἔχεις (Soph.El. 585-

90).

The perversion consists in the complete violation of theoikos. Though Clytemnestra’s union with Aegisthus is not technically marriage, the languageof marriage is employed to emphasize the ethical distortion: Clytemnestra gave no consideration to the interests of the oikos or the desires of its members and deprived it of the role that the oikos had in the wedding procedures.735 Clytemnestra received Aegisthus into anoikos which was not even her own, but her betrayed husband’s, although the proper procedure was that a woman should be given by herkyrios to her husband and then join her husband’s oikos.736 Moreover, the person she introduced into thisoikos was its bitter enemy. She goes still further in that she also betrays her children. She opts neither for natal nor for marital oikos but for an artificial and unnatural (in a Greek context) union which elevates moicheia to the status of marriage; and since the royal house is also the state, the perversion is double.

734 Cf. Badnall (2008) 123. 735 Cf. Ormand (1999) 68-70. 736 Thus, her marriage ‘defies the patrilineal nature of marriage’ (Ormand (1999) 69).

191

Clytemnestra’s union to Aegisthus in turn eradicates the prospect gamos of for her daughters, not due to a social stigma as in Oedipus’ case, but because Clytemnestra and

Aegisthus would not allow it, since they do not want descendants to Agamemnon’s line

(Soph.El. 959-66).737 Orestes has lost his social status of course (cf. Soph.El. 71-2), and

Electra is the only real obstacle for Clytemnestra and Aegisthus.738 Through her children with Aegisthus Clytemnestra has replaced Orestes, Electra and Chrysothemis and has made Agamemnon’s property and rule accessible to these 739 children. Thus,

Clytemnestra’s perverted ‘missed’ gamos has as result Electra’s missedgamos , which arrests her social development.740 Electra chooses to stand by her father’s tables

(Soph.El. 192): the tables of the virgin’s father are a symbol for the properkyrieia and the proper life that the girl lived in her father’soikos (Aesch.Ag. 243-5, cf. Soph.O.T.

1462-5). The place of the maidens at their father’s tables before their marriage was so important that its loss can feature in the epithalamial lament when they got married.741

Therefore, these empty tables in Aegisthus’ oikos stand for the distortion in Electra’s life as a potential bride (Soph.El. 1183).742 So, it is both a perversion and an irony when

Electra is eventually parted from her father’s tables not because of gamos but because of her mother’s perverted marriage. Clytemnestra’s ‘missed’gamos destroys the whole oikos.743

737 Cf. Badnall (2008) 121. 738 Juffras (1991) 105. 739 Juffras (1991) 106. 740 Seaford (1985) 318-319 passim; cf. Foley (2001) 150-1. 741 On the symbolism of the father’s tables and Electra’s marriage (cf. Ag. 243-5), see Ormand (1999) 63- 4. 742 Cf. in contrast Badnall (2008) 121. 743 Finglass (2005) 206.

192

More than that, this perverted marriage affects thepolis . The polis is a distinct presence

(Soph.El. 129, 6412,- 97685,- 1227, 14134,- 145863)- at dramatically important moments of the play.744 Aegisthus’ rule is hateful, fearsome and unwanted in Argos and resembles a tyranny.745 The evil effects of Clytemnestra’s perverted union spread outward like ripples and, as in Aeschylus, salvation from Orestes has the potentialboth to restore the oikos and to lead to a better political situation for the polis.746

6. Marriage as microcosm

The implications of missedgamos are further used to articulate the themes of the plays.747 Gamos is a way of using established social structures as a communicative medium right from the beginnings of Greek literature. Gamos is a highly structured and ritualized process in itself, which makes it a useful image to comment on structure and its absence. Feasting, another important force for and reflection of social cohesion and social order,748 is more commonly used for this purpose. The perverted feasts of the suitors, for example, in the Odyssey stand for the distortion of social order.749 Marriage too reflects social order. An early example of this use of marriage is the weddingitual r

744 Finglass (2005) 202-4. 745 Juffras (1991) 107, MacLeod (2001) 57. 746 Harder (1995) 25-6, Finglass (2005) 205. This relationship between perversion in theoikos and the polis is more nuanced in Aeschylus and will be discussed in detailin the next chapter (See ch. 4, esp. pp. 218-25 and 246-9). 747 Cf. Badnall (2008) 80. 748 Cf. Seaford (1994) 52-3, who speaks generally of feast as ritual and also treats it in the frame of Greek reciprocity. Rundin (1996) sees feasting not as ritual, but asa way to express relationships of political power in Homer and thereafter (see especially p. 205). Still it is a code of society to express order and any perversion in it signals social disorder. 749 Cf. Seaford (1994) 52-65.

193 in the peaceful city on the shield of Achilles.750 There, a proper wedding ritual represents ‘ordered communal life’.751 The marriage figures as one side of a binary opposition between peace and order and their reverse, represented in the war which encompasses the other city. Marriage then stands for order and thus disruption in the wedding ritual stands for disorder in the community.752 Furthermore, marriage was a social structure which concerned both the oikos and the polis and any irregular instance of it had implications for the larger society. Due to the inextricable connection between marriage, the oikos and the polis and the effects that the first had on the last two, missed gamos was a way to articulate larger problems or issues which concerned the oikos and the polis. Unsurprisingly therefore these were favourite topics for Greek tragedy. In this section I focus on missed gamos, which is a device systematically used inboth Electra plays. Electra’s missed marriage is employed as a device to discuss themes of the play and especially the impasse within which the family finds itself.

In Euripides, as well as presenting Electra’s personal catastrophe, in effecting her social marginalization, this missed gamos both results from and illustrates the breakdown of the oikos due to its failure to escape from self- and mutually destructive patterns of conduct. The family’s impasse and the problematic situation in Agamemnon’soikos in general is a very important theme from the beginning of the play (Eur.El. 8ff.). The father of the oikos, Agamemnon, is dead (Eur.El. 122-4, 200), dishonoured and seeking revenge (Eur.El. 318-31). It is from this that all the other disorders of theoikos arise.

750 On the shield of Achilles, see: Taplin (1980), Hardie (1985), Becker (1990), Hubbard (1992), Becker (1995) 48, 106-110, Scully (2003), Allen (2007). 751 Edwards (1991) ad 490-508; cf. Badnall (2008) 11-2, 109. 752 Cf. Badnall (2008) 11-2. 194

Thus, the mother753 is married to Aegisthus, an enemy of the family (Eur.El. 833) with whom she has killed the father (Eur.El. 8-10, 914ff.). Aegisthus (Eur.El. 11-13) and

Clytemnestra (Eur.El. 314-18) have usurped Agamemnon’s place, position,oikos , and fortune. Clytemnestra herself expelled her children with Agamemnon from the oikos (cf.

Eur.El. 201-210, cf. also 2645)- and substituted her previousoikos with another, perverted one, with Aegisthus by bearing children to him (Eur. El.60-3, cf. 211-12).

Clytemnestra ultimately sides with her new ‘husband’’s bad treatment of her children

(Eur.El. 1116-31).754

This deviation in the oikos of Agamemnon, the idea that the oikos is fragmented and the family is trapped, is most eloquently illustrated through Electra’s missedgamos . As we saw above,755 this marriage was precisely designed in order to prevent the continuation of Agamemnon’s oikos. Missed gamos then is part of the larger nexus of aberrance in the oikos.

This idea of missed marriage and arrested development allows the play todiscuss some of these larger issues about freedom, responsibility, and revenge. Firstly, marriage is connected with revenge756, in that a marriage with a noble person guarantees the revenge; a degrading marriage supposedly prevents it (Eur.El. 39-42, cf. 19-28). But in

753 Regarding Clytemnestra’s share in the perversion of the oikos, it is important to note here that Electra’s words should be treated with some reservations and not at face value. Clytemnestra’s behaviour in the end, the fact that she goes to assist her daughter, which was something expected even by Electra, indicates that Clytemnestra is not that bad. 754 Although she had saved Electra from murder at the hands of Aegisthus (Eur.El. 25-30), she apparently did it because of her fear of public opinion (Eur.El. 30). 755 See p. 188. 756 It is also integral to Clytemnestra’s revenge against Agamemnon (See ch. 4, pp. 217-8, 220-2). 195 fact the case seems to be quite the opposite. Electra’s perverted missed marriage makes revenge more urgent than ever. Electra can see the resolution of her problems, her social restoration and revenge for her father’s death (Eur.El. 1093-6) only in the murder of her mother, the agent of all these. It is Electra who wants the revenge and persuades Orestes, who insists on the wrongness of this action, to do it (Eur. 976).El. In the account

(Eur.El. 300-38) of the impasse of the oikos and the reasons for revenge expected from

Orestes (Eur.El. 330-1, 336-8), the reason which is mentioned first and foremost and is thus most emphasized is her social marginalization and degradation due to her marriage

(Eur.El. 303-13, cf. also 135-8 and 1292-3). The link between ‘missed’ gamos as reason for the revenge is stressed during the actual act of the murder: it is the first thing for which Electra blames her mother (Eur.El. 1008-1010; cf. 10045).- The emphasis on

Electra’s desire for revenge and not Orestes’ is a thematically convenient choice, because as missedgamos represented Clytemnestra’s distorted behaviour and the perverted situation in the oikos, this missed gamos and the unrealized offspring of this never consummated marriage was the agent of her own destruction, the trap which led her to death (Eur.El. 1123ff.). Missed gamos is then intimately connected with the second of the two larger themes of the play, namely revenge.

Although the revenge is presented as Apollo’s order (Eur.El. 971-3) and is regarded as just by the chorus (Eur.El. 479-86, cf. 763-4, 952-8, 1051-4), the play invites us to question both the morality of the revenge and its capacity to offer resolution. The moral issue of the revenge is raised by Orestes (Eur.El. 962ff. passim, especially 962, 967,

969, 973, 975). More importantly, the way Clytemnestra dies (Eur. 1238ff.),El. as a direct result of her generous instincts in a visit to her daughter (Eur.El. 650-8; cf. 1123-

196

33), enhances the horror of the matricide. The finaldeus ex machina speech, while acknowledging that it was Apollo’s order (Eur. El.1245-6), explicitly questions the participation of Orestes and Electra in killing their mother (Eur.El. 1244). The murder is ascribed to Apollo (Eur.El. 1296-7, cf. 13012)- but still the siblingsare punished

(Eur.El. 1244-91, cf. 1305-7).757 What the siblings should have done remains unclear.

The play does not give a straightforward answer. What is still a fact, however, is that the initial wrong is replicated in the revenge. It is with a revenge as problematic as the act it avenges that missed gamos is associated.

The link between perverted and doubtful revenge and missedgamos goes deeper still.

As we saw in chapter 2, the restoration of Electra’sgamos to a proper marriage cannot effect the emotional satisfaction of Electra, just as the revenge and what provoked it cannot be undone. Electra gets a husband and a proper oikos (Eur.El. 1311-13, cf. 1284-

7), as well as wealth (Eur.El. 1287), but in context this does not satisfy: Electra in the end is emotionally bereft both due to her exile (Eur.El. 1314-5, cf. 1334-5) and also because of her separation from her brother (Eur.El. 1321-4, 1332). Thus, the restoration of the missed marriage is unable to achieve a full restoration in Electra’s life.

In Sophocles’ Electra, missed gamos is used again to underscore the larger themes of the play, though arguably to a lesser extent. Here it reflects the usurpers’ attempts to destroy the oikos.758 Although this is less pointed than in Euripides’Electra , Electra’s

757 The revenge is perverted even with regard to Aegisthus. He dies in the frame of a subverted sacrifice ritual (Thorburn (2005) 191). 758 Cf. Badnall (2008) 121. 197 marriage, as well as Chrysothemis’, seems to be blocked by Aegisthus in order to prevent revenge for Agamemnon’s oikos,759 as Electra claims to Chrysothemis:

πάρεστι δ’ ἀλγεῖν ἐς τοσόνδε τοῦ χρόνου

ἄλεκτρα γηράσκουσαν ἀνυμέναιά τε.

καὶ τῶνδε μέντοι μηκέτ’ ἐλπίσῃς ὅπως

τεύξῃ ποτ’· οὐ γὰρ ὧδ’ ἄβουλός ἐστ’ ἀνὴρ

Αἴγισθος ὥστε σόν ποτ’ ἢ κἀμὸν γένος

βλαστεῖν ἐᾶσαι, πημονὴν αὑτῷ σαφῆ (Soph.El. 961-6).

Missed gamos speaks also for the other crucial issue in the play, namely revenge.

Because her father is unavenged (Soph.El. 245-50), while their enemies have usurped the property of the oikos, Electra is bound to lament her father and await the resolution from Orestes, while she remains unable to marry, stuck in her natal oikos (Soph.El. 164-

172, 185-92). Her missed gamos binds her to her natal oikos with an unbreakable tie and firmly associates her with the need for revenge. She herself links her missedgamos and problems and Orestes’ return for revenge:

ὅν γ’ ἐγὼ ἀκάματα προσμένουσ’ ἄτεκνος,

τάλαιν’ ἀνύμφευτος αἰὲν οἰχνῶ,

δάκρυσι μυδαλέα, τὸν ανήνυτον

οἶτον ἔχουσα κακῶν (Soph.El. 164-7).

But missed gamos achieves another more sinister effect: it adds to the sense of discomfort in the ending of the play.760 When Orestes is reunited with his sister, he

759 Cf. Badnall (2008) 121. See above p. 192. 198 pities her for her missedgamos and for her sufferings (Soph.El. 1183), but there is no word afterwards of a marriage for Electra, not even the marriage to Pylades well-known from the tradition, just as there is no ritual restoration for Agamemnon.761 Scholars have noted that the end of the play lacks a real expression of joy, which Orestes had predicted

(Soph.El. 1299-1300); the lack of an unambiguous presentation of the victory of the siblings undermines any firm sense of resolution. The language of resolution,lysis , in the play is loaded with irony and the employment of this language in the conclusion makes the irony and the sense of open-endedness even stronger.762 Electra’s missed gamos adds to the ambiguous character of the ending, to the implication that Orestes’ act cannot restore order to the oikos and invites the suspicion that there is more at work in the attempted resolution than the events clearly presented to the audience.763 Not only is the future of Electra and Orestes uncertain, but also the language of irony makes it far from certain that the problems of theoikos of Atreus and thepolis are now resolved through this ambiguous murder.764 Although Orestes and Electra have managed to free themselves from Aegisthus and Clytemnestra,765 have saved the oikos from them and released the polis from their horrible tyranny,766 the ending indicates that heyt have a much longer road to go down until they can effect complete release from their problems.

Orestes’ uncertainty regarding his success reinforces this feeling (Soph.El. 1424-5).

760 Finglass (2007) ad 14421510.- The ending is ambiguous (most recently Wheeler (2003) 3867; - cf. Kitzinger (1991) esp. 326-7, Budelmann (2000) 256-68, esp. 268). For a summary of the approachesto the character of the ending, the revenge and the tone of the whole play see MacLeod (2001) 4-20. 761 Seaford (1985) 322. 762 Goldhill (2012) 17-21, 51-2. 763 Cf. Lloyd (2005) 113. 764 Cf. Budelmann (2000) 256-68. 765 MacLeod (2001) 161. 766 MacLeod (2001) 178.

199

Finally, missed gamos again articulates major themes in Antigone.767 I showed above768 how this motif creates dramatic pathos through the importance of the loss of gamos for a young girl.769 There is a further twist however in that gamos the missed (εὐνῆς

ἀποιμώζοντα τῆς κάτω φθορὰν / καὶ πατρὸς ἔργα καὶ τὸ δύστηνον λέχος, Ant. 1224-5) is ultimately performed in a perverted form, as described by the messengerAnt. (

1192ff.):770

εἶθ᾽ ὁ δύσμορος

αὑτῷ χολωθείς, ὥσπερ εἶχ᾽, ἐπενταθεὶς

ἤρεισε πλευραῖς μέσσον ἔγχος, ἐς δ᾽ ὑγρὸν

ἀγκῶν᾽ ἔτ᾽ ἔμφρων παρθένῳ προσπτύσσεται˙

καὶ φυσιῶν ὀξεῖαν ἐκβάλλει ῥοὴν

λευκῇ παρειᾷ φοινίου σταλάγματος.

κεῖται δὲ νεκρὸς περὶ νεκρῷ, τὰ νυμφικὰ

τέλη λαχὼν δείλαιος ἔν γ’ ᾍδου δόμοις (Ant. 1234-41).

This perverted substitution for the missed marriage reflects the distortions set in motion by Creon, of which it is the result.771 Marriage and death were mutually informing ritual occasions for ancient Greeks, both of which united the public and private. Furthermore, a certain unity was thought to exist in them: marriage was related to procreation and the start of life and death with its end.772 Of two crucial rituals, Creon denied the latter, the death ritual and caused the perverted enactment of the first, the marriage ritual (δείξας

767 Cf. Badnall (2008) 79, also 110-24. 768 See above pp. 155-65. 769 Cf. Badnall (2008) 118-9. 770 Badnall (2008) 110-24, esp. 114-5, 117-21, 124. 771 Badnall (2008) 124. 772 Rehm (1994) 69-70, and also Segal (1981) 178.

200

ἐν ἀνθρώποισι τὴν ἀβουλίαν / ὅσῳ μέγιστον ἀνδρὶ πρόσκειται κακόν, Ant. 1242-3; cf.

πατρὸς ἔργα, Ant. 1225) in attempting to deny it.773 In addition, Creon’s behaviour was perverted in another sense: with his edict, he broke the link betweenthe oikos and the polis, which is central to civic life. His orders forced a choice betweenpolis and oikos.

Through them the harmonious coexistence- of divine and human law was broken.774

These consequences are expressed and represented in the play by the perverted gamos of

Haemon and Antigone, a dissonant combination of marriage and death.775 This wedding, the result of Creon’s orders and views, embodies the conflict between private and public, the human and the divine, which Creon has generated and shows the destructive potential of this rupture for the polis as well as for the oikos.776

7. Articulating the missed passage to completion

There is one final approach to missedgamos which plays a minor role in tragedy and does not map neatly onto my discussion so far but still merits consideration. This lies in the double attribute of marriage as ritual and passage.777 In the case of young people who died unmarried, there is a marked sense not merely of loss but also of deficiency.778

This is associated with the cultural belief thatgamos was a passage to maturity and adulthood.779 In the cases of premature death (cf.A.P. 7.649)780 the passage to death

773 Cf. Badnall (2008) 112, 114-5, 117-21, 124. 774 Rehm (1994) 69-71. 775 Rehm (1994) 59-71, Badnall (2008) 110-24, esp. 114-5, 117-21, 124. 776 Cf. Badnall (2008) 112, 124. 777 For the attribute of marriage as passage see pp. 19-20, 23-5. 778 Cf. Badnall (2008) 118-9. 779 See Introduction, pp. 21-5. 780 It was also a motif in fourth century epitaphs. See on this Tsagalis (2008) 2013,- cf. Neuburg (1990) 68.

201 replaces the failed passage to marriage.781 The association is all the more natural, since there was a kind of death in the wedding ritual, acknowledged in some aspects of the celebrations, not least in theepithalamion ,782 in that a girl died and became a woman who substituted for the girl.783 The conflation of wedding and death rituals has been discussed in detail by Rehm (1994).784 For the purposes of my discussion the important thing is that characters who miss theirgamos in tragedy due to their premature death make their transition to the status of dead instead of making their transition to marriage status. Equally important is that the tragedians sometimes replace this missed passage with other abstract and figurative motifs in an attempt to offer a kind of recompense or restoration to those missed gamoi.

One of the substitutions for missedgamos is the foundation of a cult.785 This is a prominent aspect of Hippolytus, but it also occurs in Iphigenia’s missed marriage in

Iphigenia in Tauris.

This substitution for marriage ritual is particularly expressed through the dedication of the lock of hair in the frame of Hippolytus’ cult in Euripides’Hippolytus . I argued above786 that Hippolytus in refusing to make his passage to marriage status misses his telos and deprives himself of his oikos and his polis. This refusal led to a violent passage

781 Neuburg (1990) 68, Rehm (1994) 29. (Death is a passage (A.P. 7.486).) 782 See Introduction, pp. 19-20. 783 Redfield (1982) 187, Foley (1994) 104, Ormand (1999) 93. 784 See Introduction, p. 30. 785 As we will see in the next chapter, 223 pp. -5, there is a precedent in Greek literature for such substitutions. In Aeschylus’ Oresteia, the problematic situation of thepolis is a status quo largely due to marital aberrance. The marriage aspect of the cult of Eumenides establishes a new order, which replaces the former, disrupted one (Seaford (1994) 386). 786 See pp. 178-9. 202 to death. Instead of arriving at his oikos at the end of his passage to marriage (cf.Hipp.

1148-50), Hippolytus makes his passage to Hades (cf. οὐ γὰρ οἶδ᾽ ἀνεῳγμένας πύλας /

ᾍδου, φάος δὲ λοίσθιον βλέπων τόδε (Hipp. 56-7),787 ... Ποσειδῶν αὐτὸν εἰς ᾍδου

δόμους / θανόντα πέμψει τὰς ἐμὰς ἀρὰς σέβων (Hipp. 895-6) and ὄλωλα καὶ δὴ

νερτέρων ὁρῶ πύλας (Hipp. 1447)).788

This development is partially reversedin the end by Artemis’ intervention moments before Hippolytus’ death Hipp. ( 1283ff.). Artemis in the introduction of her arrangements for a cult to Hippolytus speaks of a partial restorationtime as of compensation for his piety:789

ἔασον˙ οὐ γὰρ οὐδὲ γῆς ὑπὸ ζόφον

θεᾶς ἄτιμοι Κύπριδος ἐκ προθυμίας

ὀργαὶ κατασκήψουσιν ἐς τὸ σὸν δέμας,

σῆς εὐσεβείας κἀγαθῆς φρενὸς χάριν (Hipp. 1416-9).

To the modern mind it seems at the very least strange that cult could offer any solace to

Hippolytus as he faces death.790 But hero cult involved a kind of reciprocity between the polis and the hero who benefited thepolis (cf. Erechtheus fr.370.77ff.: τοῖς ἐμοῖς

ἀστο[ῖς λέγ]ω / ἐνιαυσίαις σφας μὴ λελησμ[ένους] χρόνῳ / θυσίαιασι τιμᾶν καὶ

787 πύλαι ᾍδου is a regular periphrasis for Hades, as in Hom.Il. 9.312 (Halleran ad loc) or Aesch.Ag. 1291 (Barrett ad loc); the effect is to treat death not as a state but as a place, to which Hippolytus moves. 788 In the ancient Greek thought both gamos and death were transitions, passages to another status (Rehm (1994) 29). 789 Cf. Halleran (1995) ad 1416-39. 790 Cf. Foley (1985) 22 who believes that the cult is ironic.

203

σφαγαῖσι [βουκ]τόνοις and Hcld. 1028-9).791 The honour offered to the hero persists, and it does so on the basis that he did not cease to exist despite his death, while the offerings presuppose a belief that he retains an awareness. This honour is the most important function of the cult offered to Hippolytus.792 Artemis’ phrase ἀντὶ τῶνδε τῶν

κακῶν (Hipp. 1423) underlines the role of the cult as a consolation793 and a gain

(καρπουμένῳ, Hipp. 1427)794 in the place of his sufferings; its capacity as a public cult adds to the importance of this consolation.795 The focus of this cult on marriage rituals is surprising in view of the fact that Hippolytus rejected marriage.796 However, it is precisely because Hippolytus rejected marriage that he should get such a cult. His involvement in cult both integrates himinto the civic life he rejected and reverses his aberrant connection with marriage.

The main function of this ritual, however, seems to be to reproduce Hippolytus’ behaviour and punishment: ἀντὶ τῶνδε τῶν κακῶν (Hipp. 1423). The results of his behaviour will somehow be reversed through imitation797 and reproduction and honour will be offered to him. The girls will offer their hair to him before their wedding and this

791 Seaford (1994) 125 and fn. 107, 138. 792 For another approach of the corrective role of song cf. Pucci (1977) 1845:- ‘By utterly losing himself he gains everlasting pity, institutionalized both in a ritual– the cutting of the hair – and in a poetic song. That Hippolytus should feel consoled by the knowledge that poetic song should celebrate Phaedra’s love for him, would be a bitter irony, if this poetic song were not indeed that which we are listening to now, this very play by Euripides.’ There is no guarantee that Euripides through μουσοποιὸς .... / μέριμνα (Hipp. 1428-9) referred to his own composition; yet Pucci offers an interesting approach. 793 Cf. Pucci (1977) 185. 794 Cf. Pucci (1977) 184-5, Lefkowitz (1989) 76 and fn.24, Winnington-Ingram (1960) 185. 795 Cf. Seaford (1994) 125 and fn. 107. 796 Cf. Halleran (1995) ad 1423-30. See also Segal (1986) 281, Halleran (1991) 120, Seaford (1994) 169, 279-80, 387-8. 797 Cf. Burnett (1986) 178.

204 will happen amid tears Hipp.( 1426-7).798 By being implicated in this rite of passage,

Hippolytus in some way participates in their successful passage from virginity to marriage. In the liminality that the ritual dictated to them, the girls through the tears will participate in Hippolytus’ sufferings and piteous passage to death799, honouring him for what he suffered (καρπουμένῳ, Hipp. 1427).800 This share in Hippolytus’ condition is also implied in the offering of the lock, which embodies the transition that the marriage offered but which was unrealized in his case.801

In the ritual his fate and death acquire a meaning, as Artemis had said Hipp.( 1436). His fate becomes not merely the individual’s error but the means by which social norms are preserved. And although Hippolytus is dead, Euripides grants him immortality and a continuous presence through cult and song.802 In this sense it may indicate that for all the extreme nature of his conduct there is something magnificent about his life and death. This is crucial both for the hero as subject of narrative and for the hero as recipient of cult. Song was known already from Homer to give a kind of immortality to the individual. Hero cult too grants a kind of immortality.803 This is particularly relevant for this play, which is frequently engaged with the theme of εὔκλεια.804

798 Cf. Dunn (1996) 95, cf. also Barrett ad loc, who suggests that the hair is an instance of conflation of marriage and death rituals. 799 Cf. Seaford (1994), 169 and in contrast Dunn (1996). 800 Cf. Pucci (1977) 184-5. 801 Seaford (1994) 169-70, 279-80 (cf. p. 383). 802 Pucci (1977) 185. 803 Seaford (1994) 1236- and fnn. 107, 110, 112. See also Pucci (1977) 1856 on- the restoration of Hippolytus’ existence. 804 Winnington-Ingram (1960) 179.

205

In refusing marriage, Hippolytus also enacted a deliberate excision of his family. This, too, is corrected by the cult. The cult replaces the funeral rites which would be offered by his oikos,805 this oikos which through his perverted behaviour he did not choose to continue and destroyed.806 In place of the perennial family funeral rites Hippolytus gets everlasting807 cult on behalf of the polis (ἐν πόλει, Hipp. 1424) as an offer for his death

(ἀντὶ τῶνδε τῶν κακῶν / τιμὰς μεγίστας, Hipp. 1423-4 and καρπουμένῳ, Hipp. 1427).808

My second case comes fromIphigenia in Tauris. From the beginning of the play

Iphigenia repeatedly expresses her distress at her missedgamos with Achilles at Aulis

(I.T. 216ff., 364-77, 539). Though Iphigenia is not offered thegamos she lost, and craves,809 she does receive a cult which to some degree balances the losses and compensates for her passage to death without marriage.810 The cult is an ἄγαλμα for her

(I.T. 1465). The honour is not reduced by the nature of the cult, whatever this may be.811

805 Parker (2005) 27-36. 806 Seaford (1994) 388 and 2067- for the perpetuation of theoikos through gamos. On the issue of Hippolytus as nothos and its relation to the issue of marriage andoikos , see above pp. 178-9 and also fn. 701 on p. 178. 807 This is supported by the text: δι’ αἰῶνος μακροῦ, Hipp. 1426 and ἀεὶ δὲ μουσοποιὸς ἐς σὲ .... / ἔσται μέριμνα, Hipp. 1428-9. 808 Cf. Seaford (1994) 388 for the continuity and the public character of the cult. 809 Tzanetou (1999-2000) 209. 810 There is a multiple substitution of rituals in this play. One ritual (marriage,I.T. 216-224) is substituted by another (sacrifice at Aulis, I.T. 209-17), and then another (sacrifice at Tauris,I .T. 224ff.), then finally by her role as priestess and the subsequent cult. Although it is true that in Iphigenia’s case, there is not so much emphasis paid to her death as in Hippolytus’ case and it is only treated in briefI.T. ( 1465), Athena clearly relates her cult with her death (I.T. 1464ff.). 811 The cult has been read ironically by scholars who draw attention to the seeming negative aspects of the cult and in particular to the association of Iphigenia with death in the context of the cult (see for nstance,i Ekroth (2003) 67).Yet, the negative aspects have perhaps been overstated. The association with death in childbirth could be seen as fundamentally prophylactic. And from Iphigenia’s perspective the cult remains a fact in the text of the play. (See also in response to negative readings, Cropp (2000) ad 1464-7). For an attempt to argue for the fictive nature of Euripides’ end of play cults see Scullion (1999-2000); cf. Kyriakou (2006) 19-30. See in response Calame (2009b), who suggests that Euripides’ aetiology in I.T. may be partly historical and that it may have influenced an already existing cult (Calame (2009b) -878); 206

In addition this cult places her in the centre of theoikos and the polis: this is a cult which refers to all theoikoi of the polis (cf. I.T. 1464-7).812 She attains an important social function in the polis.813 On the other hand the cult offered by thepolis again provides for indefinite continuation of her existence on a far higher level than that provided by the funeral cults in the frame of the oikos.

So the cult restores for her the important things lost when she was deprived of her gamos and confined in the land of the Taurians (I.T. 218-24). It does not matter that she will die as aparthenos . Her life would not pass in vain, contrast in to the typical funerary presentation of the deadparthenos in classical Athens. The compensation is increased by the fact that she achieves permanent honour in the one sphere (religion) in which a woman in ancient Greece could enjoy a public role. Thus, cult offers even some partial compensation to Iphigenia for what she has suffered.

8. Conclusion

I hope I have shown how the articulating capacity of missedgamos was employed by the tragedians in order to deepen emotional effects and express serious thematic concerns of the plays, choices, losses, distortions or destructions. The multiple role of marriage (for individual, family and polis) and emotional load which accompanied any

see also, Osborne (1985), especially 156-7 and 162ff., 170, Demand (1994), Johnston (1999). In any case the cult remains an honour for Iphigenia (cf. Kyriakou (2006) 29). 812 Cf. Wolff (1992) 322-3. 813 Tzanetou (1999-2000) 207-9. Tzanetou in this article, especially on pages -9, 207 offers a very interesting reading of Iphigenia’s return as a kind of conclusion of a peculiar arkteia. She stresses also the fact that the return means that she has now finally got away from the barbarian cult of Artemis (Tzanetou (1999-2000) 207).

207 reference to marriage made it an ideal medium for addressing themes which embraced all these levels of individual and collective experience.

208

Chapter 4: Perverted marriage in Aeschylus

1. Introduction

In my previous chapter we saw that various kinds of marital perversion might be figured as missed marriage.814 But aberration both in marriage and in attitudes to marriage also appears in its own right as a plot strand, large or small. The perversions in question include marriage which is betrayed, abused, malformed or malpractised according to the cultural and civic norms of Greek values and practice. All these aspects of marital aberration fall under what I call in this chapter ‘perverted marriage’ or ‘marital perversion’. I deal here with two salient instances, both from Aeschylus.

As will already be clear from the earlier chapters, marriage offered a valuable way of opening up a range of themes because of its crucial social role.815 It is perhaps in its form as perverted, more than in any other that Greek gamos becomes a thinking tool. In this chapter I will argue that the motif perversion of marital norms in Aeschylus illustrates the way in which deviance in this relationship can be used to explore and underscore specific aspects of the crisis of the oikos and the polis central to the thematic concerns of the play, and will discuss how the problems extend from the one sphere to the other.816 In the plays under discussion, the crisis generated by perverted marriage is addressed – among other arrangements – through the inauguration of cults relevant to marriage and its establishment as an essential institution to the function of thepolis : it

814 See ch. 3, pp. 186-93. 815 See ch. 3, pp. 193-201. 816 See also Badnall (2008) 79. 209 secures the fulfilment telos ( ) of humans, stabilizes the function of oikos the and ultimately leads to a restoration of the political crisis. Beyond this, the wide spectrum of implications and ramifications of gamos in Greek culture enables it to articulate other issues of the play, such as questions of loyalty, victimhood and violence.817 Naturally there is a variation in the emphases on the use of this motif in individual works.

2. The Oresteia

The Oresteia is a trilogy in which perversions of social and political norms, whether structures, processes or relationships, play a very prominent role. Ritual is repeatedly distorted in the recurrent presence (both metaphorical and literal) of the perverted sacrifice. Socio-political structures are warped in the substitution of tyranny for kingship. Family relationships are ignored or subverted. The administration of justice is constantly compromised by the presence of crime in every act ofpunishment. As one of the central structures (in both ritual and political terms) in the Greek polis, marriage is at the heart of the Oresteia to a degree not generally recognized. It is especially important in the Agamemnon, but it is also crucial for the other two tragedies of the trilogy. In particular, in the Oresteia, marriage is central to the cycle of destruction around which the trilogy evolves.818 It expresses and illustrates specific aspects of the crisis in the oikos and the polis, as well as the ramifications of this crisis.819

817 See also Badnall (2008) 80. 818 Cf. Badnall (2008) 106. 819 See also Badnall (2008) 79, 102-110. 210 a. Perversion of marriage and the cycle of destruction of the oikos

The self-destruction of the oikos of the Atreids in the form of ‘intrafamilial violence’820 and the oikos of the Atreids in itself are at the heart of theOresteia .821 Here this self- destruction is caused by a sequence of reciprocal perverted actions that the members of the oikos commit within and over generations. This is everywhere in the trilogy but it is explored particularly in the firststasimon of the Agamemnon. In this choral ode all perversions in the oikos of the Atreids are treated as being part of one single chain (cf.

Ag. 1599-1611), where aberrant behaviours are repeated and one perversion leads to another,822 in the same way that the murders in theoikos are also a chain (Cho. 806,

888). The cycle involves aberrance in several fields which are correlated the one tothe other: persuasion (Ag. 385), impiety (Ag. 369-84), greed, koros and excessive wealth

(Ag. 374-84, 471), revenge (Cho. 461, 556-8, 924-5, 930-1, 932ff., esp. the conclusion of the Choephori (Cho. 1065-76; cf. 471-5)), xenia (Ag. 362, 399-402), dike (Ag. 376,

383, 393, 451, 464, 1604, 1607, 1611).823 Zeus and the Erinyes are divine powers particularly associated with these failures. Marriage is also a link in the chain of ruin in two ways: not only is it closely associated with Zeus and the Erinyes, but also it is a crucial part, indeed a core element, of the crisis of oikos the which permeates the trilogy.824

820 Goldhill (2004) 26. 821 Cf. Goward (2005) 38-9, Goldhill (2004) 26-7. 822 Cf. Badnall (2008) 105. 823 Cf. Bakola (forthcoming 2013) [12]. 824 Cf. Macleod (1982) 133, Badnall (2008) 79, 102, 105-6. See also Seaford (2012) 181 on the perversion of wedding in Agamemnon’s journey from and back to home.

211

The severity of marital aberrance comes to the fore forcefully in the firststasimon of

Cho. 585-651,825 but adultery is already present at the beginning of the disastrous events in Agamemnon (Ag. 1192-4): adultery is theπρώταρχος ἄτη (πρώταρχον ἄτην, Ag.

1192), ‘the ruinous folly that first began it all’. Thyestes defiled the marriage of his brother Atreus by his relationship with Aerope. This led in turn to the subversion of a different ritual, τὴν Θυέστου δαῖτα παιδείων κρεῶν (Ag. 1242), which was followed by

Aegisthus’ revenge (Ag. 1577-1611)826 and the subsequent perpetuation of vengeance and even more perversions. The blow to marriage struck by the adultery initiates a pattern of destructive reciprocity which consumes the oikos.827 This relation of adultery to the ruin of theoikos is given its fullest emphasis in the association of Helen’s moicheia with the misfortunes of the Atreids.828

In Agamemnon Helen appears, as often in the tradition, as the archetypal perverted wife in that she betrays the core notion of marriage as loyalty and its centrality to theoikos .

This literal fact is imaged through the metaphorical description of her liaison with Paris in the language of conventional marriage, but in this case a marriage which initiated a cycle of catastrophe instead of bringing telos, fulfilment. This is particularly illustrated in the second stasimon (Ag. 681-781). The chorus there plays with the two meanings of the word κῆδος (Ag. 700), ‘kinship through marriage’ and ‘sorrow’ to illustrate the

825 Even Orestes’ statement that he would rather miss marriage than take a perverted wife underlines the importance of marriage perversion in this play (Cho. 1005-6); Garvie (1986) ad loc in contrast focuses on the children missed, but there is no such reference in the text. 826 Of course, Aegisthus omits his father’s adulterous relationship with Aerope. 827 Cf. Badnall (2008) 106. 828 Cf. Badnall (2008) 102-4. 212 results of this perverted ‘marriage’ for Troy.829 The joyful celebration of the wedding is used to underline the causal link between the relationship and the destruction of Troy by the transition from complete happiness to total annihilationAg. (700-716; cf. 738-

749).830

Helen’s relationship to catastrophe is much more central to the thematic concerns of the

Oresteia in that the victim of her destructive effect is theoikos of the Atreids (Ag. 403-

28; cf. 400).831 Her link with theoikos is intensified by the tendency to create the illusion (in Agamemnon at least) of a single house of Agamemnon and Menelaus832.

This narrows the gap between Agamemnon and Menelaus, thus presenting his intervention against Troy as a direct response to an affront rather than as a favour to his brother.

The direct link between Helen and the problems of Agamemnon’s oikos are brought out in relation to the sacrifice of the innocent Iphigenia, in that the text creates an immediate causal link – Iphigenia dies for the sake of an unfaithful woman (Ag. 224-7). The marital aspect is underscored by the use of the wordπροτέλεια (Ag. 227), which merges the

‘lost’ wedding of Iphigenia and the ‘preliminary ritual of the ships’, to designate the

829 Cf. Badnall (2008) 103. 830 Seaford (1987) 113, Badnall (2008) 1025.- This is especially pointed with the paradoxical phrase γάμου πικρὰς τελευτάς (Ag. 745). I discuss the notion of marriage as telos, ‘fulfilment’, below pp. 225-33, esp. pp. 225-6 with fn. 882 on p. 233. This notion is important and is evidently one of the meanings in play in teleutas here. See further fn. 882 on pp. 225-6. 831 Badnall (2008) 103-4. 832 Fraenkel (1950) ad 400, Denniston and Page (1957) ad 400; cf. also Fraenkel (1950) ad 3. 213 sacrifice.833 The terrible potential of her death for theoikos is illustrated by the violent blocking of Iphigenia’s mouth upon her sacrifice:

φράσεν δ’ ἀόζοις πατὴρ μετ’ εὐχάν

δίκαν χιμαίρας ὕπερθε βωμοῦ

πέπλοισι περιπετῆ παντὶ θυμῷ προνωπῆ

λαβεῖν ἀέρδην,

στόματός τε καλλιπρῴρου

φυλακᾷ κατασχεῖν

φθόγγον ἀραῖον οἴκοις,

βίᾳ χαλινῶν τ’ ἀναύδῳ μένει (Ag. 231-8).

The sacrifice in turn is a direct cause of Agamemnon’s death, as Calchas indicatesAg ( .

154-5). Helen’s adultery also corrupts the war fought for her sake, which cost the deaths of so many Greek menAg (. 403-5, 429-57, 799-804; cf. 4612).- Naturally then the

Trojan War carried inherently the threat of punishment for Agamemnon, as implied by the chorus:

τῶν πολυκτόνων γὰρ οὐκ

ἄσκοποι θεοί, κελαι-

ναὶ δ’ Ἐρινύες χρόνῳ

τυχηρὸν ὄντ᾽ ἄνευ δίκας

παλιντυχεῖ τριβᾷ βίου

τιθεῖσ᾽ ἀμαυρόν, ἐν δ᾽ ἀΐσ-

τοις τελέθοντος οὔτις ἀλκά (Ag. 461-467).

833 Raeburn and Thomas (2011) ad 227. 214

The murder of Agamemnon is the actualization of these fears. Agamemnon paid for his decision to reclaim Helen with his death. This link is underlined by the chorus in its lament at Ag. 1455-61:834

ἰὼ, <ἰὼ> παράνους Ἑλένα,

μία τὰς πολλάς, τὰς πάνυ πολλὰς

ψυχὰς ὀλέσασ’ ὑπὸ Τροίᾳ·

νῦν τελέαν πολύμναστον ἐπηνθίσω

δι’ αἷμ’ ἄνιπτον, ἥτις ἦν τότ’ ἐν δόμοις

Ἔρις ἐρίδματος ἀνδρὸς οἰζύς.

Since Agamemnon’s death is treated as the annihilation of theoikos , as we will see below,835 Helen ἄτλητα τλᾶσα (Ag.408) is a crucial part of its downfall.

This destructive quality is brought out by the word play in the second stasimon:

τίς ποτ’ ὠνόμαζεν ὧδ’

ἐς τὸ πᾶν ἐτητύμως ...

τὰν δορίγαμβρον ἀμφινεικῆ θ’

Ἑλέναν; ἐπεὶ πρεπόντως

ἑλέναυς ἕλανδρος ἑλέπτολις ... (Ag.681-2, 687-90).

Here the chorus have in mind especially her role in the annihilation of Troy. But her attribute as ἕλανδρος applies equally to the Greek army. The innumerable Greek deaths in Troy due to hermoicheia (Ag. 429-55, 681-98, 1455-7; cf. 399-405) in turn raise

834 Goward (2005) 89. 835 See p. 219. 215 collective hostility (described as a public ἀρά) against the oikos of the Atreids: βαρεῖα δ’

ἀστῶν φάτις ξὺν κότῳ, / δημοκρά<ν>του δ’ ἀρᾶς τίνει χρέος (Ag. 456-7). It is here that

Helen has a paradoxical accomplice in that all the destruction is not her sole work but is the joint effect of her misconduct and Menelaus’ complementary marital misconduct836.

His uxorious pursuit of Helen is in itself a kind of perversion.837 If she values her husband too little, he values his wife too much. Through an effective shift in focalization we are moved from the account of Menelaus’ excessive grief for his lost (but living) wife (Ag. 414-26) to the grief of the Argive households for their collective war dead

(Ag. 433-57). Menelaus’ obsession with Helen led him to pursue her recovery at the cost of a war (Ag. 448-9, cf. 799-804, 823-4) which brought about the destruction of a whole polis, very many misfortunes for Greece Ag( . 427-57) and, crucially,838 the death of a huge number of men.839 The distortion in Menelaus’ evaluation of Helen (εὐμόρφων,

Ag. 416) is underscored by the use of the adjective εὔμορφος to contrast her beauty as depicted by her statues with the beauty of the dead warriors (εὔμορφοι, Ag. 454).840 His determination to restore a corrupted relationship leaves countlessoikoi bereft of their men. There is a kind of contagion at work, both in the way Helen’s faulty judgement of marriage generates that of Menelaus and the way the emptiness of neo oikos turns into the emptiness of all the oikoi in the polis.

836 Cf. Badnall (2008) 106. 837 Cf. Badnall (2008) 102. 838 From a purely pragmatic perspective men were more closely linked with the perpetuation of theoikos and therefore with the polis. Their existence literally mattered more to their communities. 839 The presence of perversion of marriage in the plot finds resonance also in the use of the terminology of marriage with reference to Iphigenia and Cassandra. See Mitchell-Boyask (2006) 272-85, though I have some reservations on his argumentation as a detail; cf. also Badnall (2008) 104. 840 Cf. Raeburn and Thomas (2011) ad 452-55. 216

Just as Menelaus’ misconduct counterbalances Helen’s transgression, Agamemnon’s aberrance841 is the foil to Clytemnestra’s marital perversion.842 These are two interconnected circles in the cycle of in ruin that the first causes the second.

Agamemnon’s first and main error is the sacrifice of Iphigenia. As we saw above,843 the chorus puts Iphigenia in the balance against Helen (as it puts Helen in the balance against the Greek males who died); but not only does Iphigenia die for an adulterous woman. In killing her Agamemnon strikes a blow against the oikos. There is moreover a more immediate personal dimension. For Clytemnestra this is not just an act of child murder but a blow against their marriage.844 Clytemnestra stresses the link between

Iphigenia and herself (Ag. 1415-8, 1525-6) and views her death as an attack on her and an act of betrayal both of her and of theoikos (Ag. 1521-9, esp. 1523-4). In provoking

Clytemnestra the sacrifice invites e th continuation of destructionAg (. 1433) and

Clytemnestra’s revenge. The implication gamos of in criminality extends to

Agamemnon’s relationship with Cassandra; in this he contrasts with his uxorious brother, who overvalues his marriage. Though Athenian society was tolerant of male infidelity (provided it caused no threat to otheroikoi ), the form it takes in this case pushes the limits of tolerance; it is an insult to Clytemnestra and their marriageAg. (

1438-47), primarily because of the demand for public reception of his concubine.845

Clytemnestra underscores Agamemnon’s marital aberrance Ag( . 1438-9), as far as she herself was concerned, in describing Cassandra’s concubinage in terms of marriage (Ag.

841 Cf. Badnall (2008) 106. 842 Cf. Badnall (2008) 106. 843 See above, pp. 213-4. 844 This of course finds an analogue in Clytemnestra’s removal of Orestes from theoikos , on which see pp. 221-2. 845 Denniston and Page (1957) ad 950; cf. Badnall (2008) 104.

217

1441-2).846 Clytemnestra’s reaction to Agamemnon’s behaviour was his murder (cf. Ag.

1438-47). Though this element is at most ancillary (Agamemnon does not die for bringing Cassandra home), this aberration complements the larger sin of Iphigenia’s sacrifice as a major cause which led to his death and perpetuated the cycle of ruinin the oikos.

b. The case of Clytemnestra: from the destruction of the oikos to the destruction of the polis

We saw that the issue of pervertedgamos is implicated in a series of correspondences, of complementary misevaluations, Helen-Menelaus, Agamemnon-Clytemnestra. Above and beyond any issues of correspondence the marital perversion that dominates in the

Agamemnon is that of Clytemnestra.

Clytemnestra is a perverted wife in a number of ways and accordingly her effect on the oikos is multi-faceted. Her first aberration is her illegitimate relationship with Aegisthus.

This is all the more problematic because from a purely physical infidelity it extends to an emotional attachment to Aegisthusin preference to her husband Ag.( 1434-7, Cho.

893-5, 904-7, 991-3).847 This devotion is eloquently illustrated by the vows exchanged between Aegisthus and Clytemnestra (Ag. 1431, Cho. 977-9), which are a subversion of

846 Cf. Badnall (2008) 104. 847 Goldhill (2004) 80-81, Foley (2001) 214. As Goldhill (2004) 80-81 underlines, however, this is not so much about the romantic aspect of the marital relationship, but rather about mutual obligation.

218 the legitimate vows at weddings (cf.Ag . 877-8).848 She has thus replaced Agamemnon with Aegisthus as her husband (esp. Ag. 1434-7).849

In her collusion with Aegisthus Clytemnestra sided with the enemy of her maritaloikos , treated Agamemnon as her echthros (Ag. 1374-5) and with her lover killed her husband

(Ag. 1107-11, 1114-20, 1125-9, Cho. 132-4, 909, 930).850 The subversion is magnified by the element of ritual perversion in the murder Ag (cf.. 1542-6), parallel to the perversion of sacrifice in the killing of Iphigenia851: the wrapping of a husband’s body in a garment was supposed to express the wife’s affection in the funeral of her dead husband.852 Instead, her control of the funeral rites of Agamemnon is the final expression of her hatred for him and thus trespasses against oikos the .853 The oikos, which suffered its first blow with the sacrifice of Iphigenia and the final by the anticipated matricide hinted at in Ag. 1533-4, falls with the murder of Agamemnon by his wife (Ag. 1532). The oikos is – almost – destroyed.854

848 Griffith (1995) 85. 849 Foley (2001) 219-20. Despite its problematic aspects (on which see above, pp.217 -8) Agamemnon’s relationship with Cassandra was notmoicheia as understood in classical Greece (cf. Foley (2001) 215). Therefore, Clytemnestra’s adultery mattered in a way that Agamemnon’s relationship with Cassandra did not (cf. Cho. 918 and also Zeitlin (1996) 110). InChoephori when Orestes talks about the killing of Aegisthus, observing that he has received the justice owed to the aischynter (αἰσχυντῆρος, Cho. 990), he invites us to think in terms of Athenian homicide law and the sanction it gave the aggrievedkyrios (Carey (1995b) 409-414 passim, Ogden (1997) 27-8; cf. also Cohen (1984) 151-2, 155-6). 850 Cf. Foley (2001) 219-20. 851 Cf. Badnall (2008) 105-6. 852 During this procedure, the use of the hands to take care of the dead body expresses affection (Soph.El. 1138-9) and in particular in the case of wife it illustrates the intimacy between husband and wife (Seaford (1984) esp. 248-9, cf. Seaford (2012) 1812,- 191). In the case of Clytemnestra the text hints at this distorted intimacy (Ag. 1108-11). 853 Hame (2004) esp. 513, 5249,- 535, although I think that his argument for the creation of oikos an belonging to Clytemnestra after Agamemnon’s death and funeral goes beyond the text. 854 Cf. Badnall (2008) 106. In this destruction, perversion of marriage has a leading role, although there is another fatal error which caused this malign situation at theoikos , namely the misuse of wealth (Bakola

219

Clytemnestra’s action replicates and goes beyond Helen’s adultery (cf. Ag. 1455-9) and thus perpetuates the cycle of destruction begun a generation earlier:

νῦν τελέαν πολύμναστον ἐπηνθίσω

δι’ αἷμ’ ἄνιπτον, ἥτις ἦν τότ’ ἐν δόμοις

Ἔρις ἐρίδματος ἀνδρὸς οἰζύς (Ag. 1459-61).

As blood-shedding it responds to a previous act of killing, the sacrifice of Iphigenia (Ag.

1414-8, 1432-3, 1525-9) and is an act of thedaimon which haunts the oikos (Ag. 1505-

12; cf. 1481-4 with Ag. 1475-80; cf. already 1545).- In fact Clytemnestra is not just another stage in the endless chain of revenge but becomes the embodiment of the alastor of the offences of the previous generation itself, as she herself admits:

Κλ. αὐχεῖς εἶναι τόδε τοὔργον ἐμόν·

μὴ δ’ ἐπιλεχθῇς Ἀγαμεμνονίαν εἶναί μ’ ἄλοχον·

φανταζόμενος δὲ γυναικὶ νεκροῦ

τοῦδ’ ὁ παλαιὸς δριμὺς ἀλάστωρ

Ἀτρέως χαλεποῦ θοινατῆρος

τόνδ’ ἀπέτεισεν, τέλεον νεαροῖς ἐπιθύσας (Ag. 1497-504).855

Though the chorus rejects her attempt to exculpate herself by these means, they still associate her closely with the spirit of vengeance (Ag. 1505-12).

(forthcoming 2013) [10]-[21]) as illustrated in the famous carpet-scene: walking on such expensive materials, as already shown, illustrates the self-destruction of the oikos or the ‘excessive wealth’ leading to hybris (Taplin (20032) 80; cf. also Taplin (1977) 311-2, Goldhill (2004) 59). 855 Cf. Goldhill (1984a) 92-3, Badnall (2008) 106 on the fury as result of the cycle of destruction.

220

Of course, as part of the cycle of catastrophe, and indeed the central for the Oresteia, the murder of Agamemnon will not remain unpunished, as Clytemnestra wishes Ag( . 1568-

77). Instead it will invite further acts of murder and the destruction of theoikos (Ag.

1533-6, 1560-6), as the chorus fear: κεκόλληται γένος πρὸς ἄτᾳ (Ag. 1566). Moreover,

Clytemnestra’s deed calls for communal hatred Ag( . 1410-1) and a public curse ἀ(ράς,

Ag. 1409) in much the same way as the squandering of Argive lives earlier.856 Though she will not be punished by the people, the reaction stresses that Clytemnestra’s action must and will be punished (cf. Ag. 1429-30).

Yet, Clytemnestra’s transgression against the rules of marriage and consequentlyr he betrayal of the oikos is more complicated still. As Agamemnon had earlier betrayed the marriage bond by killing his daughter Iphigenia,857 in dislocating her son from the oikos

(Cho. 912-21) Clytemnestra breaks the marital bond with Agamemnon and her own association with his oikos. Orestes, like Iphigenia (Ag. 1525-6; cf. 1417-8), is presented as the link between the married couple Ag.( 877-9) and would also continue its line as the male successor.858 Most importantly, the fact that Orestes is deprived of the paternal property, which lies in the hands of the enemies, is a highly problematic perversion of the normal functioning of theoikos .859 Clytemnestra’s rejection of her children is manifested further in her hostile treatment of ElectraCho ( . 189-91, 418-9, 444-6), at

856 See above pp. 215-6. 857 See p. 217 above. 858 Griffith (1995) 87; see also Denniston and Page (1957) ad 877 and ad 878. 859 Cf. Zeitlin (1996) 95.

221 least according to Orestes Cho( . 912),860 and consequently the dissolution of any bond with Agamemnon.861

The direct association of Clytemnestra’s aberration as wife with the crisis in

Agamemnon’s oikos is foregrounded in the text.862 Her moicheia was at the base of its maladministration (Ag. 18-9, 37-9, 1087-92), as stressed right from the beginning of

Agamemnon. Clytemnestra affects the oikos of the Atreids at every possible level: she becomes sexually involved with the enemy of theoikos , kills her husband, treats her offspring with hostility, usurps the property of the oikos, and works against its survival.

Yet, marriage concerns not only individuals nor just the household. Since it is a fundamental relationship for thepolis as well, there is a cause and effect relationship between the individual and the well-being of the oikos and the polis.863 Thus, apart from the disorder of the oikos, perversion of marriage is linked with an abnormal situation in the polis;864 it becomes a political threat.865

In the Oresteia, the fact that it is the marriage and the oikos of the king that are affected by the serial misdemeanours Ag.( 1349, 1354-5, 1362-5, 1409-11, cf. 1412) intensifies the relationship between oikos and polis: the polis is in a real sense continuous with the

860 Zeitlin (1996) 95. Significantly Clytemnestra is the cause of the liminal status of both Orestes and Electra. Electra is stuck in a liminal virginal status and Orestes is dislocated from his natal oikos lingering on a limbo as an ephebe (Zeitlin (1996) 95, and specifically on Orestes’ passage to adulthood, see Zeitlin (1996) 98-107). 861 Zeitlin (1996) 95-6. 862 Cf. Badnall (2008) 79. 863 Cf. Macleod (1982) generally 138-44, Badnall (2008) 109. 864 Badnall (2008) 79; cf. Macleod (1982) 132-3, 134. 865 Goldhill (2004) 34-41.

222 royal house.866 They are almost identified; the threat to the first is a threat to the second

(Ag. 1349, 1354-5, cf. 1362-5).867 Agamemnon, in particular, as king, is not only master of his oikos but also guarantor of the welfare of the whole civic community.868 This is confirmed by the fact that the restoration of theoikos through the punishment of the perverted Clytemnestra (Cho. 790-820 passim) is regarded as (a first) restoration of the polis (Cho. 824-5, 1046-7).

Clytemnestra’s action is even more reprehensible when viewed as an action against the polis. Emphasis is placed on the fact that she killed not just husband and king but also an illustrious general (Eum. 625-8, 636-9). In this respect there is a visible movement in the trilogy. As it progresses Agamemnon, the criminal author of the destruction of Troy, is increasingly seen as victim and as warrior. The effect is to underscore the character of

Clytemnestra’s action as a social threat. Her transgressive behaviour itself, as a wife and mother and woman, seems all the more heinous, not least because Clytemnestra employed cunning in order to effect the murder (Eum. 625-8).869 As a result, the contrast between open (and external) warfare andrreptitious su (and internecine) faction is sharpened. More importantly, Clytemnestra’s failings are exacerbated by her more radical appropriation of authority Ag ( . 10-11, 915-74, 1372-406, 1672-3), both in the oikos and in the polis, which makes her the personification of the social ‘threat from

866 Cf. Macleod (1982) 1424 -passim, Seaford (1994) 342. Cf. also Griffith (1995)4 73 on- the juxtaposition of polis and oikos in Attic tragedy. 867 At Ag. 1586ff. polis and oikos are firmly connected in the whole story of Thyestes because perversions committed in the oikos are directly linked to the location and function in the polis (cf. also Cho. 429-33). 868 Griffith (1995) 85. 869 Zeitlin (1996) 93. Though Clytemnestra is throughout presented as an unwomanly female (Zeitlin (1996) 89), she is also tainted with the stereotypical female guile (cf. Zeitlin (1996) 89).

223 within the system’.870 During Agamemnon’s absence Clytemnestra acquired an ambiguous political power, but evidently in accordance to the norms of thepolis (Ag.

258-60, 914-30). With this power that she has legally gained, from the system, she managed to accomplish all her plans and achieve the murder of Agamemnon, thus supplanting the system.871

This social threat due to the aberrant behaviour of Clytemnestra as wife was actualized in the establishment of the distorted constitution of atyrannis . There were clear hints at political disorder earlier, during the absence of Agamemnon (καὶ πῶς; ἀπόντων

κοιράνων ἔτρεις τινάς; / ὡς νῦν, τὸ σὸν δή, καὶ θανεῖν πολλὴ χάρις, Ag. 549-50). But it is after Agamemnon’s death that the perversion infects the polis. The murder itself is an act of stasis on behalf of Clytemnestra and Aegisthus, and as such it brings a tyranny with it (Ag. 1355, 1365, Cho. 377-8, cf. Ag. 1117-8, Eum. 696),872 as the chorus feared

(Ag. 1354-5, 1365, 1638-42, 1664; cf. 1633). The present ruler is Aegisthus, destroyer of the royal oikos (Cho. 764-5). The behavioural alignment of the new regime with tyrannical stereotypes is illustrated by Aegisthus’ attitude towards the chorus, which represents the polis as its senior members.873 He is contemptuous towards them and threatens them with physical maltreatment despite their ageAg ( . 1617-1624, 1628-32,

1666, 1670).874 Here, too, sexual distortion is associated with political disorder.

870 Zeitlin (1996) 91-3; cf. Kittelä (2009) 125, 129, 137, 141. 871 Zeitlin (1996) 91-2. 872 Macleod (1982) 130-1. It also causes a further stasis in the polis, which brings the liberation of Argos (Cho. 973, 1046) (Macleod (1982) 130-1). 873 Cf. Griffith (1995) 84-5, 87, 90. 874 His expression πρὸς κέντρα μὴ λάκτιζε, μὴ παίσας μογῇς (Ag. 1624) is particularly stark, but his arrogant and tyrannical behaviour reaches its peak, if Ag. 1650 is attributed to Aegisthus, in the actual use of forces against the chorus (Ag. 1650).

224

Aegisthus is seen repeatedly as the unmanly male.875 His cowardly character (Ag. 1625-

7, 1634-5, 1643-6, 1665, 1671) underscores his status as a typical tyrant, lustful for wealth and power, concerned only to impose his own will and trespassing on the rights of the polis.876 Though he presents himself as a regicide, Aegisthus’ power in all these actions stems from and depends on Clytemnestra877 and so all goes back ultimately to her marital aberrance.

Thus perversion in marriage maps on to or expands into perversion of tate, the s the chora: Clytemnestra is now χώρας μίασμα καὶ θεῶν ἐγχωρίων (Ag. 1645,878 Cho. 572, cf. Cho. 716 and also Ag. 546-50).879 Individually and as a ‘married’ pair she and

Aegisthus are the embodiment of ‘the perverted world’ of theOresteia , as a whole.880

This rounds off the use of marital aberrance as a theme operating like a series of concentric circles, individual, oikos, polis.881

c. Marriage and telos: the closure of the Oresteia

As we have seen in other contexts an important part of the conceptualization of marriage is the notion of telos as ritual, as fulfilment, as completion.882 And it is this search for a

875 Zeitlin (1996) 92. 876 Bakola (forthcoming 2013) [18]. Agamemnon, on the other hand, respected the opinion ofhis people: he was afraid of their judgement (Ag. 938). 877 This illustrates his inability to realize his plans against Agamemnon on his own, and consequently underlines his worthlessness. 878 See Denniston and Page (1957) ad loc. 879 Cf. Macleod (1982) 132-4. 880 Cf. Goward (2005) 88. 881 Cf. Badnall (2008) 79. 882 Telos is a multifarious term. In theOresteia , it has many potential connotations and scholars are not unanimous in their interpretation of the word.Indeed telos as a general notion is of remarkable

225 telos,883 an end of the problems, a closure,884 or a more general fulfilment that appears as one of the central thematic concerns in the trilogy.

At the end of the Oresteia there is a general sense of a new order replacing an unstable older order.885 Amid this general resolution the telos for which the trilogy is striving is accommodated by the cult given to the Eumenides.886 This cult effects restoration on more than one level. It seals the conciliation of the Erinyes to Athens. As a counterpart to the creation of the Areopagus it cements the move from centrifugal vendetta to centripetal civic justice. But, among its very many aspects, it is also a cult of marriage.887 In this capacity, many of the important notions telos of in the play are brought together here and corrected.888 Helen’s γάμου πικρὰς τελευτάς (Ag. 745) and the perverted προτέλεια (Ag. 227; cf. προτελείοις, 65-6) finally give way to sacrifices significance to the trilogy and permeates it, taking many different meanings or even combining more than one of its senses at the same timeGoldhill ( (1984b) 170-4 passim). Among the meanings proposed are accomplishment, completion, enactment of ritual, totality, end, target, (absolute) authority, fulfilment, but also payment, penalty for an action. On the meanings of telos in the Oresteia, see Fischer (1965), Lebeck (1971) 71-2, Goldhill (1984b) esp. 16974,- Goldhill (2004) 66, and most recently Seaford (2012) 65-6, 126-7. In particular, telos in wedding contexts has been translated as ‘solemnization’ (Waanders (1983) 244), ‘consummation’ (Lebeck (1971) 69, 713,- Goldhill (1984b) 1701;- Seaford (2012) 127), ‘completion’ (Lebeck (1971) 713,- Sommerstein (2008b), Seaford (2012) 191), ‘ending’ (Sommerstein (2008b), Seaford (2012) 197), ‘fulfilment’ (Lebeck (1971) 71-3 , Collard (2002)). For my present purposes it is the notions of fulfilment and closure that are particularly important. Collard in particular translates it as ‘marriage’s fulfilment’ and associates the phraseγαμηλίου τέλους (and therefore the cult of Eumenides) with Athenian marriage practice and ideology (Collard (2002) 223 note ad 835). See also Voutiras (1998) 112, 118. 883 Goldhill (1984b) 171-2, Goldhill (2004) 65-6. This desire is evident already from the beginning of Agamemnon (Goldhill (1984a) 12). 884 Seaford (2012) 192, 194. 885 Cf. Taplin (1977) 410, Bacon (2001) 52; cf. Taplin (1977) 415, Seaford (1994) 96. 886 Cf. Badnall (2008) 107-8. 887 Cf. Badnall (2008) 106. 888 Cf. Mitchell-Boyask (2006) 294, Seaford (2012) 195; cf. Badnall (2008) 1078.- Telos is restored in another one of its senses, namely authority with the punitive authority assigned to the Erinyes; thetelos dikes requested earlier (Eum. 243, 729) is also achieved (Seaford (2012) 195). For a less positive reading, see Goldhill (1984b) 172-3; cf. also Darbo-Peschanski (2006).

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γαμηλίου τέλους (Eum. 834-6, cf. also 8547,- 1006, 1037).889 This cult is a cult of children, namely human fertility, and γαμηλίου τέλους (Eum. 835), namely the fulfilment that marriage brings to the humans890. It is in these two capacities that the cult brings together two of the most important themes of the play.

Firstly, it recalls891 and fixes the perverted telos that Clytemnestra asked Zeus for in the carpet scene (Ag. 973-4; cf. 972).892 Apart from his attribute as ‘fulfiller’, Zeus teleios is also, and crucially, a god of marriage in his cult with Herateleia .893 Clytemnestra prays for the fulfilment of her perverted wishes: her ambitions for revenge, wealth and power,894 but more importantly the death of Agamemnon.895 This perverted telos,

Agamemnon’s death (Ag. 1459-61, 1503-4),896 is the final act of Clytemnestra’s marital aberrance. It is the seal of her distortion of the telos of her gamos.

The acceptance of the cult of marriage on the of part the Erinyes corrects this perversion. It recognizes and protects marriage as an institution.897 It is a retrospective acknowledgement of the justice of Orestes’ revenge for all its flaws and complications898 and Clytemnestra’s guilt as wife, since the Erinyes accept at last the

889 Cf. Macleod (1982) 136-8 with more on the restoration of ritual, Seaford (2012) 195. 890 See above, pp. 225-6 fn. 882 with references. 891 Goldhill (1984a) 222. 892 Cf. Golden (1961) 160. 893 See Avagianou (1991) 31-33 and, most recently, Seaford (2012) 1478.- The references from ancient sources include: Plut.Mor. 264b; Plut.Quaest.Rom. 2; Schol. ad Ar.Thesm. 973; D.S. 5.73. 894 Cf. Seaford (2012) 192-3, see also Goldhill (2004) 36. 895 Lebeck (1971) esp. 72-3; cf. Goldhill (2004) 66. 896 Lebeck (1971) 70-3, esp. pp. 72-3. 897 Cf. Badnall (2008) 106-8. 898 Apollo’s emphasis on the importance of marriage bonds and his hint at the necessity for revenge is simultaneously giving an important reason for the acquittal of Orestes (see Goldhill (1984a) 222).

227 importance of the marriagebond,- which they had earlier wilfully undervalued in their fiercely partisan defence of Clytemnestra.899

The marriage cult of the Eumenides is simultaneously a reversal of the wider perversion of the oikos of Atreus.900 The Erinys is at the heart of the destruction of the oikos in that she has an active role in the cycle of destruction and is largely identified with the alastor of the oikos (Ag. 681-781)901 and the oikos itself.902 By offering a cure for the marital aberration in the oikos and directly associating the Erinyes, the spirit of theoikos , with this cure, the cult treats the perversion deep in its core.903

But there is another sense in which the cult of marriage of the Eumenides is an adjustment of Clytemnestra’s perverted behaviour in the context ofpolis the. In defending Clytemnestra and disregarding her aberrance as wife, the Erinyes reject not only Zeus, Hera and marriage, but also Aphrodite and her role in thetelos of marriage

(Eum. 215). This is crucial because Aphrodite stands not simply for sexual desire but for the loyal affection between husband and wife which is the prerequisite for marriage and the procreation of children.904 We saw above Clytemnestra’s perverted loyalty toward

Aegisthus. Clytemnestra transferred the affection and love, which she owed to her husband, to her lover. The Erinyes in their support of Clytemnestra condone even this

899 Cf. Badnall (2008) 107-8. 900 Cf. Badnall (2008) 106-8. 901 Bakola (forthcoming 2013) [17] and fn. 44. 902 Bakola (forthcoming 2013) [17] and fn. 44; cf. Badnall (2008) 106. 903 Cf. Bakola (forthcoming 2013) [20]; cf. Badnall (2008) 106-8. 904 Goldhill (1984a) 222. In the framework of the dispute regarding marital and natal bonds, this aspect of the cult showcases the relative significance of marriage in that blood-bonds cannot exist without gamos. In disrespecting marriage Erinyes are wrong in neglecting this aspect of marriage’s importance (Goldhill (1984a) 222).

228 aspect of her failure as wife and wilfully ignore the importance of bonds other than blood-bonds.905 Thus, their association with marriage in cult is the correction of their earlier imbalance.

In the context of this cult, they ordain the telos of human lives in general (Eum. 952) and marriage in particular Eum ( . 834-6). Thus they are associated with and reconciled to

Zeus and Hera. Their acceptance of the cult of marriageEum. 834- ( 6) is the acknowledgement of respect due to Zeus and Herateleioi as – among other things – patrons of marriage, their problem as earlier pointed out to them by ApolloEum ( . 213-

224, esp. 213-6). Since marriage was at the heart fo the conflict between chthonic and

Olympian gods as well as of the trial of Orestes, the marriage cult is theresolution of this collision.

But the issue is wider than I have so far presented it. The rejection of marriage represents a more general rejection of social ties, of society and polis in favour of blood- ties conceived in the narrowest way.906 Now this, too, is corrected. This is a public cult which celebrates the establishment of order within thepolis .907 By accepting the cult of the polis then they are assimilated into the larger social order.908

On the other hand, through the cult of Eumenides female sexuality is controlled and human fertility guaranteed Eum ( . 903-12).909 The prayer of the Eumenides for the

905 Cf. Goldhill (1984a) 221. 906 Cf. Goldhill (2004) 39. 907 Goldhill (2004) 63-4; cf. also Goldhill (2004) 73. 908 Cf. Goldhill (2004) 40, Bacon (2001) 54, Easterling (2008) 219, Badnall (2008) 106 . 909 Zeitlin (1996) 98; cf. Badnall (2008) 106.

229 cessation of the blood-flow (Eum. 979-83) is connected with their general protection of human fertility.910 In this way the marriage cult of the Eumenides reverses the perverted fertility associated with the murder of Agamemnon by Clytemnestra and the relentless emphasis on blood, from the bloodshed caused by Helen’s adulteryAg (. 1460) to the general blood split on the ground throughout the trilogy but especially during the carpet scene,911 the Cassandra scene (Ag. 1072-1342 passim, esp. 1090-1149 and 1188-90 and

1291-4, 1309-1319, 1338-42) and after the murder Ag ( . 1389-90, 1426-30, 1456-61,

1478-80, 1509-12, 1533-4 and also 1589-90; cf. 1420 with 1417-8))912. This bloodshed perpetuated the cycle of violence and ruin in theoikos of the Atreids. At the end of the trilogy, the Eumenides stop this relentless blood flow: μηδὲ πιοῦσα κόνις μέλαν αἷμα

πολιτᾶν (Eum. 980).913

But this cult brings also the restoration of the fertility of the earth and nature (Eum. 829-

36, 904-9).914 The association of marriage with earth fertility is natural, since a part of earth’s fertility is also human fertility within gamos (Eum. 834-6). Female infidelity then in contaminating the latter also interrupts the former. The association of marriage with the cult of the Eumenides reconciles female fertility with female sexuality and thus stabilizes what might otherwise be a source of disorder.915

910 Cf. Badnall (2008) 84. 911 Lebeck (1971) 85-6. 912 Lebeck (1971) 80-91, Bakola (forthcoming 2013) [17]; cf. Badnall (2008) 106. Lebeck’s (1971) 81 phrasing is notable: ‘The image becomes a concrete object of perception in each of the three plays: the carpet of tapestries inAgamemnon , the blood-dyed robe which Orestes spreads inChoephori , and the robes donned by the Semnae in Eumenides’.) 913 Lebeck (1971) 91. 914 Macleod (1982) 137-8, Porter (2005-6) 2, Easterling (2008) 232. 915 Zeitlin (1996) 97, Badnall (2008) 106.

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Thus through the telos of marriage and the resultant and related fertility, the cult mirrors the new social and civic order916 which has been brought about after the disruptive distortions of marriage;917 it resolves the problematic situation in the oikos and in its public dimension it relieves the perversions of polis the .918 The cult of marriage embraces all the oikoi of the polis (cf. Eum. 892) and puts them under the protection of the Semnae (Eum. 834-6). It guarantees the normal function and prosperity of thepolis as a whole Eum.( 762ff., 858-63, 868-9).919 The benefits of this cult are expanded to contemporary Athens through the explicit metatheatrical aspect of the ending.920 The installation of the Furies happened in the distant past but it inaugurates a social and ritual practice which extends to the here and now of the audience.921 Thus, the beneficial aspect of the marriage cult is expanded to the wholepolis , in its fictional and real form.922

916 Goldhill (2004) 28, Griffith (1995) 81. 917 Porter (2005/6) argues for a distorted sexuality running through the trilogy which is not restored in the end. Distorted sexuality is an issue in theSupplices with which he is comparing theOresteia (Porter (2005/6) 4-6). Yet in the latter this issue matters notper se but as a crucial aspect of marital aberrance which ultimately has ramifications for the polis (Zeitlin (1996) 89-98, esp. 91, 94, 98; cf. Porter (2005/6) 7: ‘Instead of suggesting ways in which these powerful capacities can be righted toupport s society, the end of the trilogy in great measure skirts the issue.’). 918 Cf. Badnall (2008) 106-8. 919 Cf. Seaford (1994) 3667- for resolution, also 1025,- 132-5, 342 and generally 363ff. including on ambiguity in tragedy; cf. also Seaford (1995) 9, 208 - 216-7. Cf. also Goldhill (2000) 4856- for an ambiguous reading of the play. These are the two major views on the closure Oresteia of the . See Rechenauer (2001), especially - 912; Porter (2005/6). Macleod (1982) 1323 - speaks of ‘goodness achieved’ by the end of Eumenides, also at 284-5. 920 Easterling (2008) 232-3, Revermann (2008) 254-6; cf. Wilson and Taplin (1993) 174-7, esp. 175-6. 921 Easterling (2008) 232-3, Revermann (2008) 254-6. 922 Wilson and Taplin (1993) 1756.- Though as Scodel (Scodel (2008) 1368)- rightly notes, factional violence remained in the Athens of Aeschylus, as witnessed by the murder of Ephialtes, she is too pessimistic in viewing the cult as a failure. Despite the murder,stasis did not break out. It is important to note that the play does not deny the possibility of violence. Rather, a new order is in place to help prevent it and add a degree of stability to collective life.

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Therefore, the cult offers a partial restoration of the perversions and crises in the play.

The resolution offered by the cult is complemented by the foundation of lawcourts.923

Cult is at the level of divine agency and ritual, and courts at the human level. Courts and cult are also causally interrelated, in that the successful functioning of the ritual and in particular the new future of fecund marriages arise directly from the new stability created in Athens. Certainly, there is no full reversal of all theses cri of the trilogy, actual and potential. The losses of theoikos cannot be recovered. The potential of disruption in the oikos and indeed in the polis is always open (Eum. 952-5).924 Nor do the Erinyes utterly abandon their punitive actionEum ( . 932-7).925 There will still be misfortunes for humans (Eum. 933-7). The cult of the Semnae has an unpleasant aspect, associated with human grief Eum( . 954-5). There is thus an ambiguity inherent to the

‘resolution’ offered in the ending.926

Yet, this cannot cancel the eneral g positive character of the resolution, nor the ‘new order’ established in the state.927 The character of the interventions of the Erinyes has radically changed (cf. Eum. 179-90). The new polis-focused approach to revenge means that all such acts, as moicheia, murder, betrayal, violence, can now be addressed within a system which allows punishment without the endless spiral of violence, and this stability offers a context within which relationshipscan function as they should.

Therefore, the end firmly underlines the ramifications of aberrance in the oikos and the

923 Cf. Seaford (1995) 214-5. 924 Cf. Goldhill (1984b) 173. 925 Easterling (2008) 233-4; cf. Darbo-Peschanski (2006) 15-20. 926 Goldhill (1984b) 173. 927 Goldhill (2004) 28.

232 polis and thus authoritatively endeavours to prevent any potential major civic disorder like the one presented in the play.

Apart from its literal use, marital aberrance is a means of exploring other issues. As was hinted above, the Oresteia raises larger questions of loyalty, which are at the heart of the vendetta. Perverted marriage has an important bearing on this question. In the trial of

Orestes, at first glance it seems that the issue is how severe the matricide is as an offence and whether Orestes had any real justification for his actions. But the insistence of the

Erinyes on the importance of the matricide and Apollo’s on the importance of marriage and Zeus and Hera teleioi indicates that the question is ultimately: ‘to whom do I owe my allegiance?’.928 In putting natal oikos against marriage the play illustrates the way in which exclusive loyalties fragment and destroy social structures. If all relationships are reduced to the lowest common denominator, then there is no society. This resolution is ultimately about the survival of civilized society.929

3. The Supplices

The notion of marriage astelos and its civic dimension are also dominant in the

Supplices. Problems of marital aberration assume a central and literal importance in this trilogy to a greater degree than in theOresteia . This case is peculiar because it is not clear in the first place how it should be classified within the various categories explored in this thesis. In Supplices Aeschylus presents the daughters of Danaus facing the threat

928 Cf. Badnall (2008) 107. 929 Cf. Bacon (2001) 57.

233 of an abhorrent marriage. This first play of the trilogy930 deals with the Danaids’ flight from marriage.931 This might be considered as– but ultimately is not– a ‘missed gamos’. It is a rejected marriage, at least for the Supplices,932 but it eventually does take place and dominates the remaining two plays of the trilogy. From this aspect it is important that there are hints of the approaching murder of the Aegyptiads in the

Supplices (Suppl. 4-10, 21-2, for instance).933 This marriage is perverted in all its aspects, both in its beginning and in its results. In the Supplices both the Danaids and the

Aegyptiads express mutually complementary distorted views on marriage. One aspect of this double-faceted perversion is associated with the Aegyptiads who force this marriage on unwilling partners, and the other with the Danaids.934 Most crucially, the marriage is further subverted in the next plays: marriage becomes a kind of rape,935 and the brides’ resistance becomes a most notorious murder of the husbands.936 Thus, the trilogy moves from rejection to a perversion of marriage and destruction of theoikos in the form of

930 There is still a debate as to whether this is the first or the second play of the trilogy. For the first view see Garvie’s reconstruction of the trilogy in Garvie (1969) 183ff. and for the second Rösler (2007) 182ff.; cf. Badnall (2008) 94-5. Personally I agree with Garvie, and my discussion treats the Supplices as the first and the Aegyptiads as the second play in the trilogy. 931 There are many efforts in Aeschylean scholarship to judge whether this is rejection of gamos in general or just the specific one to the Aegyptiads (Garvie (1969) 2213,- see also most recently, Mitchell (2006) 209-10). As I will argue below, I think it is a development from rejection of this specific marriage to rejection of marriage per se. 932 With specific reference to the end of the Supplices, I would like to suggest that in fact the impending perverted marriage takes an almost concrete audiovisual form there, in that the last choral ode has a strong hymeneal form as well as content (Seaford (1984-5) 221-9; cf. Seaford (1987) 114-5, Murnaghan (2005) 188, Rösler (2007) 188, Badnall (2008) 81-97, Swift (2010) 279-97, Seaford (2012) 141). 933 See Sandin (2003) ad loc. 934 Cf. Belfiore (2000) 56-8. 935 Cf. also Badnall (2008) 84-5. 936 Belfiore (2000) 57-8. Their conduct completes their assimilation to the Amazons at theSupplices (Suppl.287), who killed their husbands too. See Johansen and Whittle (1980) ad9 ‘Pelasgus’ 287- assimilation of the Danaids to’the Amazons ‘is pregnant with unconscious prophecy’; cf. also Turner (2001) 32 fn. 18.

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‘intrafamilial violence’937, which is the focus of the second and third plays. There is in fact no surviving play or trilogy in which marriage has such a central role or is problematized for its own sake in quite this manner. In this section I examine the way in which the Supplices explores marriage in itself in terms of social norms and the problems attached to them. But I shall also look at the deployment of marriage as a means to open larger themes for discussion (though to a lesser degree) in this play too. I will firstly discuss the form that marital perversion takes in this trilogy, beginning with the Aegyptiads’ aberrance.

a. Marital aberrance: views and behaviours

The first aspect of their perversion lies in the fact that they insist on a marriage firmly refused not only by the brides but by their father as wellSuppl (. 141-3, 330-2, for instance)938, whose agreement was an essential part of theengye . This unity of negative wills is emphasized in Danaus’ words: πῶς δ᾽ ἂν γαμῶν ἄκουσαν ἄκοντος πάρα / ἁγνὸς

γένοιτ᾽ ἄν; (Suppl. 227-8). This is effectively illustrated in the laments of the girls for this marriage in the first stasimon (Suppl. 58-76, 112ff.; cf. 123-4). The tearing of their

καλύπτρα (καλύπτρᾳ, Suppl. 122) underscores their detestation of the marriage to the

Aegyptiads939 by its contrast to its literary intertext, namely Andromache’s similar gestures in Iliad 22 in grief for her deceased beloved husband. In presenting their situation as analogous to Procne Suppl ( . 58-76) they underline the intensity of their

937 Seaford (2012) 145. 938 Cf. Mitchell (2006) 214, Seaford (2012) 155; cf. Detienne (1988). On the role of Danaus see below p. 244 with references. 939 Sommerstein (1977) 67-82.

235 lamentation.940 Ultimately the use of violence to effect this marriageSuppl ( . 226-28,

940-1, 885ff., 943-4941) against the will of the brides and their father transgresses marital norms.942 This image is reinforced by the hybris of their herald towards the gods of Argos (Suppl. 893-4), as well as to thepolis (Suppl. 911ff.) when they attempt to remove the Danaids, the suppliants of Argos, from there, and the whole of Greece

(Suppl. 914-5). Moreover, they demand the women as if they were their property.943

This is a perversion of the character of the marital relationship, even if they have in

Athenian terms a claim on the women on grounds anchisteia of (Suppl. 387-91).944

Their view of marriage as possessionSuppl ( . 918, 932-3, cf. 9067)- reveals their mentality. The behaviour of the Aegyptiads causes the Danaids to regard this marriage as slavery (Suppl. 335) and subjection to a possessor (Suppl. 337).945

Nevertheless, this is not the whole picture. Although the Danaids so emphatically state in praying to Zeus946 that dike is on their side (Suppl. 37, 77-82, 104-11, 168-75; cf. 9-

10), it is debatable whether their flight is legitimate.947 There are reasons in fact to suppose that their opinion about the nature of their impending marriage (as distinct from its manner) is not to be accepted. It is true that the Suppliants claim that nature is against it: for them this is an endogamous marriage Suppl( . 37-39, esp. πατραδελφείαν (Suppl.

940 See Sandin (2003) ad 63-4. 941 ἐκδοῦναι here has marriage implications. 942 Cf. Belfiore (2000) 56-7. 943 Seaford (2012) 152. 944 Sandin (2003) ad loc, 918, 9323;- cf. also Garvie (1969) 217ff., esp. 2201,- who is most uncertain about this and more recently Turner (2001) 33-5. On the role of Danaus see pp. 250-1. 945 Cf. Seaford (2012) 152-3. 946 Zeus is a crucial figure in theSupplices (Suppl. 1,4). His omnipotence being in the background (cf. Sandin (2003) ad 1), he is both the ancestor of the Danaids and the god of supplication, and the god of marriage. 947 Cf. Gantz (1978) 287.

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38, 330-2).948 Nevertheless, not only Egyptian law in the play, but also Athenian law in the world outside the text accepted such unions. For the Athenians, endogamy was actually preferred949 unless it amounted to incest. Thus the issue of kinship in this marriage is one on which the Athenian audience are bound to understand the claims of the Aegyptiads, even if this is not a validation of their conduct. Pelasgus himself questions the legitimacy of the claim of the Suppliants Suppl( . 387-91; cf. 344).950 This is clear in the language he uses. He wonders whether the Aegyptiads κρατοῦσι ... / νόμῳ

πόλεως (Suppl. 387-8). As if questioning their plea, he asks the Danaids to prove that they are legally right: this is illustrated by the several legal phrases used by Pelasgus.

Significantly, the Danaids choose to ignore this question.951 If the claim of the

Aegyptiads on them has a degree of quasi-legal validity, their flight is compromised.

But it seems that it is not only the behaviour of the Aegyptiads that causes the negative attitude of the Danaids respecting marriage. The Danaids’ failure is deeper and more severe than their above mentioned perversions. The Danaids have distorted views on the institution of marriage itself and therefore a perverted attitude to marriage altogether.952

At this point it is necessary to discuss what exactly the Danaids are rejecting, because there is a certain ambiguity in the text. It is not immediately clear whether they detest this specific endogamous marriage to their cousinsSuppl ( . 392-5) or marriage in

948 Seaford (2012) 149-152, esp. 151; cf. Mitchell (2006) 217. 949 Harrison (1968) 21-2. More recently see Foley (2001) 61-2, 68, 72-3 and fn. 74, 102-3, for instance. 950 Cf. Sandin (2003) ad loc, 918, 932-3 and Seaford (2012) 153; cf. Turner (2001) 45. 951 Sandin (2003) ad 394-5. 952 Cf. Badnall (2008) 96. 237 general.953 The uncertainty of their words looks like a strategic blurringof the text by

Aeschylus. The Danaids begin with statements of rejection of this marriage only but eventually these statements are addressed both to the institution of marriage as well as to the specific marriage to their cousins. Climactically in the concluding lines they express a total refusal of the institution of marriage, invoking Artemis and wishing for purity. In the end, they are denying marriage per se and at the same time they are expressing their strong detestation of marriage to their cousins (Suppl. 1062-4).954

In their total rejection they fail to understand the immense importance ofgamos and its relation to fertility.955 Their transgressive attitude to marriage is indicated by their preference of death over marriage (Suppl. 154-66, 784-807). Here despite the superficial similarity they offer a marked contrast to other tragic virgins who choose death in place of their marriage.956 In the case of the latter, it was an honourable choice of a greater good. In this case there is no greater good beyond the rejection itself. Moreover, in this context, the Danaids supplicate Zeus but in their prayer they commit another perversion

953 See Garvie (1969) 215-223 and more recently Turner (2001) 28-32, who has a full list of the passages matching each contingency (p. 29 fn. 10); cf. Bachvarova (2009) 303. Cf. also Rösler (2007) esp. 1824,- who believes that it was marriage in general that the Danaids wanted to avoid because the oracle said that Danaus would be killed by a son-in-law of his. It is difficult to see any hint in the play, but it is likely that this was an issue in the third play of the gy trilo (Sommerstein (2008a) 2846,- Seaford (2012) 157). Seaford (2012) 157 believes that it is both the endogamous marriage that is rejected and marriage altogether; cf. Swift (2010) 279. 954 Cf. Johansen and Whittle (1980) ad 1069. 955 Gantz (1978) 287, Badnall (2008) 90-3, Bachvarova (2009) 304-5. 956 Cf. Badnall (2008) 84. Even in stating their preference of death to marriage, the way of death they choose (Suppl. 789-91) has hymeneal implications (Badnall (2008) 84, Seaford (2012) 142), assimilating them to the arge l group of the girls who missed their marriage, or those women whose marriage was flawed and they committed suicide, as Jocasta and Deianeira in Sophocles. For example, ina similar way to Polyxena (Eur. Hecuba) the Danaids prefer death to a marriageSuppl ( . 784-807) with a person they detest (Suppl. 784-99, 802-7), but they do not see Hades as bridegroom unlike other maidens but as king (Suppl. 791). Indeed, it is impressive that they see their death as a state in heaven (Suppl. 792-9) and not a dark situation. See Badnall (2008) 84.

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(Suppl. 154-66).957 They do not confine themselves to asking for protection from their cousins. They blackmail him in stating that ifhe does not save them from marriage to their cousins they will hang themselves.958

Since gamos is the telos par excellence of women, it is especially ironic that the Danaids constantly speak of and seek theirtelos (Suppl. 603, cf. 601, 739, for instance; cf.

τελευτά959 (at the beginning: τελευτὰς, Suppl. 139-40; at the end: τελευτὰ, Suppl. 1050-

1)) but they flee from it in rejecting marriage (Suppl. 1050-1, cf. 1040).960 The telos, the

πρᾶγμα τέλειον (Suppl. 92; cf. 139-140), they audaciously961 ask Zeus for is the absolute absence of any γάμος (Suppl. 141-3; cf. 150). The vocabulary used in their efforts to support their case is the vocabulary of marriage: σπέρμα σεμνᾶς μέγα ματρὸς εὐνάς

(Suppl. 141, 151). Crucially in the hymn to Zeus Suppl( . 524ff.) there is an allusion to

Zeus teleios962, and his capacity as fulfiller and generator of perfection963 runs throughout this ode and marks its ending linesSuppl ( . 598-9).964 It is then potentially

957 Burian (1974) 9-10, Sandin (2003) ad 154-61: ‘This threat of suicide is the first clear indication of the undercurrent of violence and aggression in the minds of the Danaids. ... The threat is rather an indication of the hybris of the girls, giving an ironical twist to their recurring complaints about this fault in their suitors (31,81, 104, 426, etc.)’. 958 Cf. Badnall (2008) 84. Threat was one possible form of supplication but it mostly led to failure of supplication, as Naiden (2006) 84-6 shows. However, I would disagree that the threats of the Danaids have no success. They do make Pelasgus consider their case and bring the issue to thepolis (Suppl. 376- 80, 438-54, 468-89; cf. 407-17, 452). 959 I translate telos as fulfilment, completion, perfection, as above. 960 Cf. Murnaghan (2005) 194-5, Bachvarova (2009) 300. This is also an indication of their bad side and their total blindness with regard to their flight and the right of their case. On Danaids and ‘the deferral of telos’, see Seaford (2012) 144-9. 961 In fact if the readingἥβᾳ μὴ τέλεον (Suppl. 80; West reads ἥβαν μὴ τέλεον) is correct, it is really a wilfully pushy obstinacy against marriage that they show. 962 Johansen and Whittle (1980) ad 524-6. On Zeus teleios, see Introduction, p. 22 with fn. 46. 963 Johansen and Whittle (2004) ad 5256- characteristically translate Suppl. 525-6 as ‘of perfecters most perfecting power’ and support this translation with argumentation. 964 Johansen and Whittle (1980) ad 525-6.

239 ironic that they should pray to him965 to bring about a telos, end, to their agonies (Suppl.

211, 624, esp. 524ff., also 80816, - 823-4), while they are wilfully rejecting one important aspect of his attribute asteleios , namely protector of marriage.966 There is a last irony in that they also ask Zeus for telos (as fertility), wishing for the prosperity of

Argos (Suppl. 689-92), and yet they ignore the relationship of marriage to fertility.967

The Suppliants fail to understand both marriage and Zeus as the god of marriage.

Their rejection of the telos of marriage reaches its climax, fittingly, in the concluding lines of the Supplices, where the Danaids do indeed reach a point where they firmly reject marriage outright (Suppl. 1030-3). This is so extreme that the subsidiary chorus protest (Suppl. 1034ff.)968 and state the sanctity of marriage and the importance of Zeus and Hera as gods of marriage Suppl( . 1035), as well as of Aphrodite Suppl( . 1034, cf.

1041), and the significance of the telos of marriage (Suppl. 1040 and 1050-1), which is wilfully denied by them. Even after this, they still insist on their views, seeking to adapt the will of Zeus to their own (Suppl. 1062ff.).

In their absolute and unrelenting rejection of marriage, they ignore its importance as a socio-political entity. In their prayer for the prosperity of Argos, they understand the importance of fertility but ironically fail to grasp that of the institution which guarantees

965 Their prayers to Zeus are spread throughout the play: 23-39, 20-175 passim, 206ff., for instance. 966 Seaford (2012) 145-8, 149. 967 Cf. Badnall (2008) 96. 968 Cf. Belfiore (2000) 58, Badnall (2008) 96-7, Bednarowski (2011) 552. There is a debate with reference to the identity of the subsidiary chorus. Recent scholarship suggests that in most probability this is about a chorus consisting of Argive bodyguards and not the handmaids of the Danaids. See on this most recently, Swift (2010) 280-2; cf. in contrast, Bednarowski (2011) 55665,- who argues for two hemichoruses of Danaids. 240 it, as we saw.969 They break the cultural link between the fertility of earth, social continuity and marriage that was at the heart of marriage as a socio-political institution, which was vital for the polis.970 There, they associate the continuation of the polis with the fertility of the earth.971 Yet, crucially, they are silent with regard to the institution of marriage, which was the means of providing the continuation of the body of legitimate citizens. Their mistaken approach in this play is repeated and magnified in the next, where they strike at the heart of the institution of marriage and the survival of theoikos .

Marriage as social construction is eventually confirmed and their aberrance corrected in the finale to the trilogy through thehieros gamos of fr. 44, which was one of the prototypes for human marriage in Greek religion and culture.972 In this fragment, the notions of marriage, telos, human fertility and fertility of the earth are all brought together and their link is firmly established973 in the following way: this is the gamos of earth and sky (ἐρᾷ μὲν ἁγνὸς οὐρανὸς τρῶσαι χθόνα, / ἔρως δὲ γαῖαν λαμβάνει γάμου

τυχεῖν974). The outcome of this marriage is fertility of nature and earthἡ δὲ( τίκτεται

βροτοῖς / μήλων τε βοσκὰς καὶ βίον Δημήτριον· / δένδρων τ’ ὀπώραν ἐκ νοτίζοντος

γάμου/ τέλειός ἐστι·). This hieros gamos of Earth and Sky elevates sexuality to a cosmic

969 Cf. Gantz (1978) 279, 284-5. See also here pp. 238-40. 970 Cf. Badnall (2008) 90-3. 971 There is an emphasis on the fertility of the earth; it seems that it is an important theme in the trilogy: it figures in the hymn to Zeus (Suppl. 524ff.), but fertility of the earth and continuation of the oikos go hand in hand in the curse of the Danaids to the Aegyptiads upon the arrival of the latter Suppl( . 854-7). Its use reaches its peak at the end of the Suppliant Women (Suppl. 1026-9), and in Aphrodite’s speech (fr. 44) in the trilogy of the Danaids. See my main discussion, pp. 238-42, 247. This linkage of fertility of earth and oikos is also inherent to the cult of the Eumenides at the end ofOresteia the , where telos had an immensely important role as here (see pp. 225-33). 972 Cf. also Gantz (1978) 284 and Calame (2009)a 142-3, Seaford (2012) 305-12. These lines are about marriage and match the earlier attitude of the Danaids against the institution: Turner (2001) 32 fn. 16.; cf. in contrast Garvie (1969) 225 and Rösler’s reading which focuses onlyeros on and suggests that Hypermestra fell in love with her husband and this is the reason she spared him (Rösler (2007) 18995 - passim; cf. Mitchell (2006) 210). 973 Cf. Bachvarova (2009) 305, Seaford (2012) 305-7. 974 On the text of fr. 44 used here, see p. 129, fn. 492. 241 principle in the manner of Hesiod at Theog. 116-33.975 It also places gamos at the heart of animal and human life; it is not however merely a sexual union, though it is a validation of sexuality, but a prototype of human marriage.976 Gamos brings telos, completion, perfection, fulfilment of fertility (δένδρων τ’ ὀπώραν ἐκ νοτίζοντος γάμου /

τέλειός ἐστι).977 Thus, the centrality of gamos at all levels from the world of nature to the cosmos is confirmed in the hieros gamos of Earth and Sky in Aphrodite’s speech at the conclusion of the trilogy.978

b. Exploring marriage through its perversion

The perverted attitudes towardgamos in this play and trilogy allow Aeschylus to explore marriage more generally, to pose questions about self-definition and loyalty, and the need of the female to move on.979 Upon marriage women were expected to make a transition from theoikos of their father to their new, maritaloikos , that of their

975 Ἤτοι μὲν πρώτιστα Χάος γένετ᾽· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα Γαῖ᾽ εὐρύστερνος, πάντων ἕδος ἀσφαλὲς αἰεὶ ἀθανάτων οἳ ἔχουσι κάρη νιφόεντος Ὀλύμπου, [Τάρταρά τ᾽ ἠερόεντα μυχῷ χθονὸς εὐρυοδείης,] ἠδ᾽ Ἔρος, ὃς κάλλιστος ἐν ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, λυσιμελής, πάντων τε θεῶν πάντων τ᾽ ἀνθρώπων δάμναται ἐν στήθεσσι νόον καὶ ἐπίφρονα βουλήν. Ἐκ Χάεος δ᾽ Ἔρεβός τε μέλαινά τε Νὺξ ἐγένοντο· Νυκτὸς δ᾽ αὖτ᾽ Αἰθήρ τε καὶ Ἡμέρη ἐξεγένοντο, οὓς τέκε κυσαμένη Ἐρέβει φιλότητι μιγεῖσα. Γαῖα δέ τοι πρῶτον μὲν ἐγείνατο ἶσον ἑωυτῇ Οὐρανὸν ἀστερόενθ᾽, ἵνα μιν περὶ πᾶσαν ἐέργοι, ὄφρ᾽ εἴη μακάρεσσι θεοῖς ἕδος ἀσφαλὲς αἰεί. γείνατο δ᾽ Οὔρεα μακρά, θεᾶν χαρίεντας ἐναύλους Νυμφέων, αἳ ναίουσιν ἀν᾽ οὔρεα βησσήεντα. ἣ δὲ καὶ ἀτρύγετον πέλαγος τέκεν, οἴδματι θυῖον, Πόντον, ἄτερ φιλότητος ἐφιμέρου· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα Οὐρανῷ εὐνηθεῖσα τέκ᾽ Ὠκεανὸν βαθυδίνην... (The text is cited after Solmsen (1990).) 976 Cf. Seaford (2012) 306-7. 977 Cf. Belfiore (2000) 61-2. 978 Cf. Seaford (2012) 305-7. 979 Cf. Badnall (2008) 108. 242 husbands. The procession from the one house to the other was an important part of the marriage ritual and ideology.980 This of course had implications for the self-definition of the girls who got married. They were expected to redefine themselves as parts of the oikos of their husband, although the paternaloikos always had a kind of claim on the girls and they could in certain circumstances be transferred back.981 Inability to achieve a successful transfer to the maritaloikos caused severe problems. This failed transfer meant that the loyalty of the wives did not lie with their husbands but with their fathers.982 Consequently, this was a threat to the continuity of oikos the and to the marriage itself.983

This is the case with the Danaids. The efforts of the Danaids to flee from marriage have some affinity to the usual reaction of brides to the seismic change effected by marriage,984 though the Danaids are an extreme variation on female resistance to marriage.985 At a literal level the play stresses the importance of marriage, theneed for the female to leave her oikos and for the oikos to let go of the female. These girls are so excessively attached to their paternaloikos that even if they did not reject marriage so violently in this specific instance it is questionable whetherey th could ever marry successfully.986

980 See Introduction pp. 16-20. 981 Just (1989) 26-7, 33, 66-7. 982 See Badnall (2008) 79. 983 Seaford (1990b) 151-2, cf. Seaford (1990b) 166-8. 984 Seaford (1987) 110-5; cf. Seaford (2012) 140-1. 985 Seaford (1987) 110-4; cf. Swift (2010) 279-80, Seaford (2012) 144; cf. also Badnall (2008) 82-3, 97. 986 Cf. Föllinger (2007) 13-6, Badnall (2008) 87, 90.

243

It is worth pausing to look at the peculiar relationship they have with their father. With respect to their rejection of marriage, flight and supplication, though they often take the initiative in word and action, it seems that they are not in full authority but heavily influenced by their father. Although they nowhere acknowledge him as their kyrios,987 a fact which has implications for the legality of the Aegyptiads’ claim,988 they admit that he is their βούλαρχος (Suppl. 11; βούλαρχον, 970), στασίαρχος (10) and πρόνοος

(πρόνοον, 969).989 Danaus is not only presented as a source of advice and influence by the Danaids in their statements, but enacts the role in front of the audience before the entrance of Pelasgus and towardshe t end of the trilogy. This is not to say that the

Danaids were not following their own desires in refusing marriage, but rather that there is complete unanimity of opinion between the father and the daughters. His will is their will too.990 Therefore, this is not simply a group of delinquent females but one entire oikos which is resisting the inevitable. The Danaids are stuck with their father and their natal family. This extreme attachment threatens ‘the continuity of oikos the ’991 and finally directs them to the murder of their husbands. This culmination was an almost complete destruction of their oikos.

987 This issue remains unclear (cf. Suppl. 965, where the polis seems to take this task as if Danaus was not present) and the Danaids never quite argue their case respecting this legal claim (Turner (2001) 33). Cf. in contrast Föllinger (2007) 15-6. 988 See above, pp. 236-7. 989 Cf. ναυκλήρῳ (Suppl. 177). For the role of Danaus (see Föllinger (2007); cf. Garvie(1969) 202, 213, Turner (2001) 45-6); for a view of Danaus as chorus-leader and director, see Murnaghan (2005) 189-91. Cf. Bakewell (2008) for an interesting approach to the character of Danaus. 990 Cf. Föllinger (2007) 13-6 and her approach to the issue of the relationship between father and daughter in the Supplices. Föllinger puts it nicely: ‘im ... Vordergrund steht die Einheit von väterlichem und töchterlichem Willen’ (15). 991 Cf. Seaford (1990b) 151-3. This is the oikos where Danaus and Aegyptus belong.

244

The play, and perhaps the trilogy, also raises the issue of the violation of the will of the individual in marriage. As we have seen above, unwillingness both on the behalf of the brides and their father is stressed in the play. For the first audience there were palpable resemblances between the situation of the Danaids and that of theepikleros . Certainly, the Danaids themselves cannot be regarded literally as epikleroi, since their father is still alive. Moreover, the protection which the law afforded to epikleros the in her new marriage is absent in this play.992 Yet, they do resemble the epikleros in that they have no male siblings.993 Elements of the epikleros cases are here: the kin who is keen to marry his cousin, the unwilling girl who does not want to marry her kin,the inability of the father to make a stand for his daughters and protect them. Through these affinities between the two situations, the play implicitly comments on the epiclerate and explores the tensions within the system.994 It defamiliarizes the familiar and asks questions about the extent to which the Athenians do in fact institutionalize violation of will.

In the framework of the exploration of mistaken approaches to marriage, the play also comments on power ratios within marriage relationships. As we saw above, the

Aegyptiads see their cousins as their property and seek to dominate 995 them. But a marriage even in a culture of arranged marriages can only flourish on the basis of shared volition and respect. This is the basis of Odysseus’ praise of marriage and it is reiterated in Pindar O.7.1-10.

992 Seaford (2012) 154. 993 Seaford (2012) 154. 994 Cf. Seaford (1987) 117-9, Badnall (2008) 87. 995 See above pp. 235-6. 245

From the aspect of marriage which concerns the individual and oikos the , the play moves to its political aspects. Marriage and erroneous views on itare the reason for the

Danaids’ supplication to Pelasgus (Suppl. 274ff., 418ff.) and his polis (Suppl. 330-2),996 an entreaty which ultimately results in the concrete political destruction of Argos.

As in the Oresteia, the polis is of great significance in the Danaid trilogy.997 As we have seen in the Introduction998 and earlier chapters, marriage and the polis were inextricably linked in ancient Greek culture999 and no less so in democratic Athens. Marriage was the institution providing the continuation of the oikos and thus it secured the survival of the polis through the provision of legitimate citizens.1000 Refusing marriage was a political act in a way in that it denied contribution to this continuation.

Although this is not an Argive marriage (cf.Suppl . 609), the play creates the link between gamos and polis. A first way is the association of the Danaids with Io (Suppl.

292-24), but the main link between the Danaids and polis the of Argos is created through their supplication. It is the wholepolis that accepts them in Argos (Suppl. 957-

65, esp. 963-5), and not just Pelasgus. The polis has thus linked itself inseparably to the

Danaids and fights for them against this unwanted marriage.1001

996 Cf. Sandin (2003) ad loc. ἐκδούς (’κδοὺς, 341) in particular is literally marriage vocabulary. 997 Indeed the polis is presented as almostfunctioning in a democratic way (See Garvie (1969) 198, Burian (1974) 8-12, cf. Rösler (2007) 194-5). 998 See Introduction, pp. 20-1. 999 Cf. Turner (2001) 45 speaking of the rejection of marriage as an ‘opposition toward the contemporary Greek culture’ and Murnaghan (2005) 194-5 for the link of gamos and polis. 1000 See Introduction, pp. 20-1. 1001 Cf. Garvie (1969) 181-2.

246

This link is reinforced with the prayer of the Suppliants for Argos as an expression of gratitude at Suppl. 625ff. while in fact they are destroying it. Certain that the gods’ favour is ensured for the Argivesbecause of their supportive attitude Suppl ( . 654-5), they ask for the absolute prosperity of thepolis in all fields (Suppl. 634-709 passim) as reward. Among their specific requests are absence of war Suppl( . 634-6) and fertility of the earth (Suppl. 663-5, 689-92, 1026-9).1002 Yet, it is precisely in these two fields that the Danaids’ distorted views and actions regarding marriage negatively affect the polis. I will begin with the latter.

In denying marriage, they reject procreation and continuity, which are the backbone of oikos and polis.1003 Their perverted attitude affects the royal oikos of Argos1004 and the polis as a whole. This supplication means dangers for the polis, which emerge in the text soon after the dialogue with Pelasgus begins Suppl( . 342-3, 357-9) and come close to realization at Suppl. 934-7.1005 This probably prepares for the events in theAegyptiads , namely the war (cf. Suppl. 635).1006 All these make the allegation of the Danaids that

1002 As scholarship has shown there is irony in this passage, too. For this and the distortion in the Supplices’ views regarding marriage and fertility, see above pp. 239-42. 1003 See Turner (2001) 32. See also here pp. 242-4. 1004 Cf. Turner (2001) 46. The clue for this connection in theSupplices is Pelasgus’ consideration about how the acceptance of the supplication will not harm himself Suppl( . 411). The dangers emerging in this play with regard to the acceptance of this supplication of the Danaids do not only refer to thepolis , but also to the oikos of Pelasgus (Suppl. 434-6). This is dramatically eased by the way the acceptance of the Supplices by Pelasgus on behalf of thepolis is illustrated, no matter whether Pelasgus was the real authority and the transfer to the assembly of thepolis his tragic choice (Burian (1974) esp. -56); in any case the acceptance of the Danaids had firstly to be subjected to his judgement. So a tragic aspect is there in his dilemma, which was probably continued in the second play of the trilogy; this is underlined by the great pressure of the Danaids to accept their supplication (cf. Garvie (1969), 131-2, Burian (1974) esp. 13- 4). 1005 Cf. Turner (2001) 356,- 46, Mitchell (2006) 209. LineSuppl . 401 is very telling: ἐ ‘πήλυδας τιμῶν ἀπώλεσας πόλιν’ (cf. Mitchell (2006) 215). Indeed, this becomes a debate in the Supplices (Suppl. 342ff.) and a motif (Suppl. 410). 1006 Rösler (2007) esp. 182-4.

247 there is no danger of the wrath of Zeus for theoikos (namely the Argive oikoi) sound somewhat ironic (Suppl. 649-50). The death of the citizens and the political tribulations of the polis1007 result directly from the rejection of marriage by the Danaids and the war it brings.1008

The pollution of thepolis reaches its climax after the perversionpar excellence of marriage of the trilogy,1009 when all the Danaids apart from Hypermestra kill the

Aegyptiads after their weddings.1010 Their extreme attitude brings the λοιμὸς ἀνδρῶν, which threatens the polis with extinction (Suppl. 659-60, cf. 636) and theἀ νδροκμὴς /

λοιγὸς (Suppl. 679-80).1011 Furthermore, the Aegyptiads were not only the husbands but relatives also.1012 This reinforces the distortive aspect of the murder. Last, this is the blood of men shed by women (cf.Suppl . 476-7).1013 The πορφυροειδὴς λίμνα, against which the Danaids prayed to Zeus, will be realized (λίμνᾳ ... πορφυροειδεῖ, Suppl. 528-

30).1014

The importance for thepolis is confirmed by subsequent events, which reverse the disruptions set in motion by the Danaids and Aegyptiads alike. If the trilogy ended with

Lynceus’ acquisition of political power and the throne in Argos and the foundation of

1007 Turner (2001) 36-8. 1008 This development may not be certain, but it is highly likelythat later in the trilogy (whichever is the sequence of the plays) a war between the Aegyptiads and the Argives out broke, an event already foreshadowed in the play (most clearly at Suppl. 934-7, cf. 1043ff.). 1009 Cf. Turner (2001) 38-9. 1010 Cf. Mitchell (2006) 208 for instance. 1011 Cf. Gantz (1978) 284-5. 1012 It is especially the kin murder that is firmly rejected in the play Suppl( . 499; cf. Gantz (1978) 283). It is a most severe perversion of philia (cf. Gantz (1978) 283 with fn. 17). 1013 Cf. Gantz (1978) 282. 1014 Cf. Gantz (1978) 283.

248 the Argive dynasty through Hypermestra, the crucial role of marriage as an institution is effectively illustrated. The decision of Hypermestra to spare her husband would be triumphantly vindicated. The danger to the continuation of the body of citizens would be relieved.1015 In view of all this, the confirmation of marriage as an institution1016 effecting telos for humans, as proclaimed by Aphrodite, might have been ultimately actualized in the remarriage of Lynceus with Hypermestra and the foundation of the new royal Argive oikos.1017 This would be reinforced still further by Aphrodite’s speech in the finale.1018

c. Marriage as device for addressing other thematic concerns of the play-trilogy

Although marriage is an issue of the play for its own sake, it is also a useful device for introducing other issues. To begin with, it provides an occasion for supplication and the protection of the weak to be explored. We saw above1019 that supplication bound the polis with the political effects of the rejection-perversion of marriage on behalf of the

Danaids. Although the Danaids claim that their supplication must be accepted because it is a sacred institution protected by Zeus and if it is not granted, thepolis will pay for it, it is in fact they who ‘undermine’ the proper function of thepolis .1020 The Danaids are refugees, yet their approach to both marriage and supplication is distorted to such an extent that they are eventually transformed to aggressors from victims. Their

1015 Mitchell (2006) 211, 217-8. 1016 Badnall (2008) 94-5. 1017 Seaford (2012) 309. 1018 Cf. Badnall (2008) 85-6, 96-7. A trial is, in all likelihood, the context of the conclusion (Garvie (1969) 205-11). For a discussion on the contingency of a divine reconciliation-remarriage of Zeus and Hera as the conclusion of the trilogy, see Belfiore (2000) 58-62. 1019 See pp. 247-9. 1020 Cf. Badnall (2008) 84. 249 supplication is the channel through which the ramifications of the perversionof marriage are transmitted to thepolis . The weak may be in real need of protection, but their acceptance may be potentially dangerous for the man supplicated. The play then examines the dilemmas attached to supplication in a political context, which played an important role in Athenian civic ideology and self-presentation, and explores especially the tensions between ethics, religious scruple and pragmatism.

Aberrance in marriage is also used to explore the interconnection between victimhood and violence. The threat of the Aegyptiads is the tool of the Danaids to cause pity and sympathy for themselves, but their eventual aggressiveness reverses the relative situations of the Aegyptiads and the Danaids. Marriage is a very effective means of representing and exploring this shift through the emphasis on the distorted views of the

Danaids on the issue, in that it is the main field where the two genders face each other directly.1021 The Danaids accuse the Aegyptiads of hubris in seeking an endogamous, unwanted marriage, but in fact the Aegyptiads have some legal claim and the justice of the Danaids’ claim does not seem to be so straightforward. In the place of the affectionate loyalty owed to their husbands,1022 the Danaids have only hatred for the

Aegyptiads, just as we saw above in the case of Clytemnestra.1023 Their violent rejection of a marital partner reaches the point of murder in response to violent insistence on forced marriage from the Aegyptiads. Not only does this show how easily victim

1021 Cf. Badnall (2008) 80. This is illustrated by the presentation of the conflict as a war between genders (Suppl. 644-5, 913, 950-1, 1068-9). 1022 Their behaviour is anyway far from the ideal marriage as outlined by Odysseus in Od. 6.180-5. 1023 See above p. 219. 250 becomes criminal, but it also raises questions about the limits of violence in pursuing revenge and in securing one’s desires,1024 as we see so often in Euripides.

4. Conclusion

In Aeschylus marriage as a theme on its own becomes a major topic in the tragic discourse in the form of deviation. In that capacity it is also extensively employed to articulate other thematic concerns of the play. Its -political socio implications are particularly useful for expressing aspects of the crisis in the oikos and the polis.

1024 Turner (2001) esp. 35-8, Bachvarova (2009) 297. 251

Chapter 5: Good gamos

1. Introduction

Marriage is at the heart of the writings of Jane Austen and her Victorian successors to a degree arguably unprecedented in European literature. The plot invariably leads (after obstacles) to happy marriage.1025 Austen gives some information at the end of most of her novels to assure us that these were happy unions.1026 Mansfield Park, Pride and

Prejudice, Persuasion, Northanger Abbey, Sense and Sensibilityall end with some concluding paragraphs or chapters on the subsequent events. Charlotte Brontë also devotes a chapter to this in Jane Eyre.1027 Anne Brontë’s Agnes Grey and The Tenant of

Wildfell Hall both conclude with brief information of this kind and assure the reader of the happiness of the marriages. Yet, in literature, the reader is never allowed to view these couples in their marriage in real narrative time; he never gets to see them during

1025 ‘Reader, I married him’, Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre, Chapter 38. 1026 Dickens also ends on glimpses of marital happiness, with some snapshots of the moments after the wedding, in his Little Dorrit. Bleak House ends with information and a scene of happy everyday marital life. With reference to the narrative of good gamos in narrative time there is an instance where we do enjoy a couple in literature. This is the Harmons inOur Mutual Friend. They get married at the beginning of the fourth volume of the novel and enjoy full marital happiness well before the novel ends. But this case is peculiar for two very specific reasons. The first is that this novel very much sets outo undermine t the Victorian notions of high society and its importance as well as the idea expressed by its members ‘that in these matters [i.e. marriage] there should be an equality of station and fortune, and that a man accustomed to Society should look out for a woman accustomed to Society’ (Book 4, Chapter 17) and that otherwise happiness is impossible. ‘The Voice of Society’ is categorically refuted at the end. The importance of money in marriage is a second belief that has to be undermined, because thiswas Bella Wilfer’s firm belief in the beginning and one which threatened her marriage. So it was essential that happiness in– a seemingly – poor couple should be firmly demonstrated. This brings me to the second peculiarity of the situation. Despite the fact that this marriage may be the most important thread of the plot, it is just one strand of the plot; it is only one of three plot threads at least, so this certainly helps not to end in a tedious happy marriage narrative. There is a third peculiarity that the author experiments with many genres simultaneously in this novel and this peculiar character may speak for the exceptional character of marriage inOur Mutual Friend. Dickens’ many simultaneously working threads may allow for this, but otherwise this would be impossible to work. 1027 In this light, the last chapter of her Villette is uncommonly disturbing in its ambiguity. 252 their happy life together, nor have a concretemage i of what exactly makes a happy marriage. We admire, we anticipate a good marriage, we remember it, we regret its loss in retrospect but we can never experience it; it is never actually there in literature. Good gamos is then a story of absence. This inverse relationship between marital happiness and plot appeal traces its beginnings already from Greek archaic and classical literature.

In this chapter I will discuss good marriage in epic and in tragedy.

2. Epic

a. The Iliad

The Iliad gives us the first example of an ideal marriage. It is associated here not with absence but with rupture, and, as we shall see, it is precisely the fact that it is ruptured that allows it to be exhibited as ideal. But what is a good marriage for the Iliad? Achilles describes a good relationship with one’s woman as one of affection and regardIl. (

9.341-3):1028

ἐπεὶ ὅς τις ἀνὴρ ἀγαθὸς καὶ ἐχέφρων

τὴν αὐτοῦ φιλέει καὶ κήδεται, ὡς καὶ ἐγὼ τὴν

ἐκ θυμοῦ φίλεον δουρικτητήν περ ἐοῦσαν.

1028 Cf. Arthur (1981) 25. 253

The ideal marriage in theIliad is of course that of Hector and Andromache.1029 Again mutual affection is at its core.1030 The eagerness of both to meet is expressed both by words and by actions. Hector cannot waitἀπέσσυτο, ( Il. 6.390). The distance he traversed covers four lines Il. ( 6.390-3) and underlines this desire. Andromache, too, rushes1031 to meet her husband. During this meeting, Hectorὀάριζε γυναικί (Il.

6.516).1032

It is very significant in this context that the couple meet physically over their son. As well as allowing a tender family moment this also takes us to the heartgamos of in ancient Greek culture which is neither solely nor primarily sexual in the hedonistic sense but inextricably connected with the continuation of theoikos through reproduction. The union is not just defined in a vacuum but is highlighted (as often in Homer) by contrast, in this case with the hedonistic relationship of Paris and Helen, which is unsurprisingly one without issue in the Homeric text.1033 In this context the presence f o Astyanax further validates the union of Hector and Andromache.1034 The tenderness in the description of the baby, παῖδ’[α] ... ἀταλάφρονα, νήπιον (Il. 6.400) illustrates the fragility of this oikos and increases the pathos. But beyond this the space devoted to

Astyanax projects the beauty of this child,ἀ λίγκιον ἀστέρι καλῷ (Il. 6.401). This is the

1029 This ideal status is reflected in the veil which was the wedding gift of Aphrodite Il.( 22.470). See on this, Segal (1971) 49-50 with Metz (1990) 395, Richardson (1993) adIl . 22.468-72; cf. Pantelia (1993) 495-6. 1030 Cf. Arthur (1981) 26-7. 1031 Schadewaldt (1997) 131-2. 1032 Schadewaldt (1997) 136. 1033 For the contrast between the two relationships, see Griffin (1977) 43, Arthur (1981) 29, Metz (1990) 389-90, Schadewaldt (1997) 129-30, von Nortwick (2001) 231. I return to this issue in more detail below, pp. 268-9. 1034 Griffin (1977) 43. 254 symbol of their union (cf. ὃν τέκομεν σύ τ’ ἐγώ τε δυσάμμοροι, Il. 24.727).1035 Even in the bleak circumstances of their encounter, it is this very baby that resolves the loaded atmosphere of their pessimistic thoughts and even their ‘disagreement’1036 and unites them in making them laugh together in the well-known episode with Hector’s helmet (Il.

6.466-81): ἐκ δὲ γέλασσε πατήρ τε φίλος καὶ πότνια μήτηρ (Il. 6.471).1037

The strength of their relationship is expressed in the way they single out their partner as the most important living person for them.1038 For Hector, Andromache comes above anybody else, even his parents:

ἀλλ’ οὔ μοι Τρώων τόσσον μέλει ἄλγος ὀπίσσω,

οὔτ’ αὐτῆς Ἑκάβης οὔτε Πριάμοιο ἄνακτος

οὔτε κασιγνήτων, οἵ κεν πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοὶ

ἐν κονίῃσι πέσοιεν ὑπ’ ἀνδράσι δυσμενέεσσιν,

ὅσσον σεῦ ... (Il.6.450-4)

But he, too, is everything to Andromache both sentimentally and practically, as she fervently tells him:

Ἕκτορ, ἀτὰρ σύ μοί ἐσσι πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ

ἠδὲ κασίγνητος, σὺ δέ μοι θαλερὸς παρακοίτης ( Il. 6.429-

30).

1035 Cf. Metz (1990) 391-2. 1036 Cf. Arthur (1981) 37, Metz (1990) 391-2, Graziosi and Haubold (2003) 71. It seems that basically it is their worlds that are in conflict, not their personalities (Schadewaldt (1997) 135). 1037 Schadewaldt (1997) 137, Metz (1990) 391-2. 1038 Taplin (1995) 122, cf. Griffin (1977) 31-2. 255

Hector is so valued for Andromache (Il. 6.429-30, 450-4)1039 that her life is meaningless without him (cf.Il. 6.410-11; cf. 22.481), miserable Il. ( 6.411-13) and painful Il (.

24.742)1040. This is confirmed by her reaction upon Hector’s deathIl. (22.447-76ff.).

Particularly her wish for her own death Il( .6.410-11) not only shows the emptiness of a life without Hector but also implies a desire for reunion withif himHector gets killed.1041 She knows very well that she will be left alone, a widow with an orphan baby and virtually no protector Il.( 6.432-3). Thus, not all of her devotion to her husband is romantic love. Part of it is need of a practicalure. nat The effect however is not to weaken but to strengthen their bond. Need and strong affectionexist. co Their- relationship is made firmer and more complete through the unusual degree of dependency. This is an uncommonly close relationship because Andromache has no living relatives (Il. 6.413-28, esp. 413: οὐδέ μοι ἔστι πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ).

Accordingly, Hector’s affection for his wife coexists with other more -regarding self emotions. This is inherent in his sense of pride. He insists on the way Andromache’s dishonour hurts his honour, too (Il. 6.460-1). The content of his prayer for his son shows the same concern for his own honour and standingIl. 6.476- ( 80). This however is inseparable from his status within the heroic world. Still, despite his brusqueness it is for

Andromache that he cares most and not for the Trojans (Il. 6.540 and 454).

1039 Tsagalis (2004) 120-1. 1040 Cf. Tsagalis (2004) 135-6. 1041 Cf. Tsagalis (2004) 120. 256

The depth of their mutual regard is illustrated through the expressions of fear and anxiety and pain for each other.1042 The contingency of Andromache’s loss of freedom

(nb. the expression ἐλεύθερον ἦμαρ ἀπούρας, Il. 6.455) and slavery Il. ( 6.454-8) and disgrace (Il. 6.459-63) which would follow his death distresses him. He may state that his duty for war comes first, but still it is primarilyfor her that he is pained, cares and even fights (Il. 6.450-4). Andromache’s anxiety for Hector Il(. 6.407-13) is illustrated through her tears (Il. 6.373, 405, 496) and grief (cf.Il . 6.486). It reaches such a degree that it is expressed in the language of madness (μαινομένῃ ἐϊκυῖα, Il. 6.389; μαινάδι ἴση,

Il. 22.460)1043 at the point of his death.1044

Most movingly both of them cry and turn back to the point of their meeting, when they part. This emphasizes their desire to be together– and their pain at not being able to.

Andromache obeys her husband and returns homeἐντροπαλιζομ ένη, θαλερὸν κατὰ

δάκρυ χέουσα (Il. 6.496). Hector’s behaviour is almost the same (Il. 6.515-6): he, on his part, is just about στρέψεσθ’ ἐκ χώρης ὅθι ᾗ ὀάριζε γυναικί (Il. 6.516), his ἄλοχος ...

φίλη (Il. 6.495), when Paris interrupts him (Il. 6.514-5).

Integral to our understanding of their relationship is the fact that both fulfil complementary social ideals as man and wife. Hector is presented as a great warrior

(κορυθαίολος ... Ἕκτωρ, Il. 6.440, cf. 46870,- 472, 4945,- 22.471)1045 and perfectly

1042 Schadewaldt (1997) 128, 130, 136, 141-2. 1043 Richardson (1993) ad 22.460; cf. de Jong (2012) ad 460. 1044 Schadewaldt (1997) 134. 1045 Notably, we are recurrently reminded in the ὁμιλία that Hector is a warrior (cf. Metz (1990) 392). His armour is always in the focus (Il. 6.398, 467-70, 472-3, 494, 498; cf. 403): this aspect of Hector is always in the background of his affection for his wife and son. This is underscored by his o response t Andromache’s pleas and pain (Il. 6.441, 22.105): he is not bent, albeit moved (cf. Arthur (1981) 29). 257 fulfils the requirement of manly behaviour (cf.Il. 6.352-3)1046 as expected (Il. 6.81-2).

Andromache also meets the cultural expectations for the proper wife. She acknowledges the full kyriotes of Hector. Her task is the oikos (Il. 6.490-2), as Hector’s was the war (Il.

6.492-3). The poem also presents her weaving at home, as women of the archaic period used to do (Il. 22.440-1). She also tends to her husband; she orders a hot bath for him upon his return from the battle Il.( 22.443-5).1047 She exemplifies the cultural model of the virtuous wife, particularly in her obedience and her devotion to1048 Hector.

Crucially, Andromache is presented as a precious wife due to her noble origin and dowry:1049 she is the daughter of Eëtion Il.( 6.395-8), Hector’s ἄλοχος πολύδωρος (Il.

6.394; cf. Il. 22.472).

An important clue to thehomilia and the relationship of Hector and Andromache in general is provided by theOdyssey , which taught us how essential like-mindedness is for a married couple. The Iliad allows us a glimpse of what homophrosyne might mean in practice. Homophrosyne here is not about identical views, but a general intellectual and temperamental compatibility. As we saw,1050 their partner matters to them more than anybody else.1051 Andromache’s concern about her widowhood, the fate of their child1052 and their oikos and its survival (Il. 6.408-13, 429ff., 22.484-6ff., 24.735-7) is

1046 Cf. Arthur (1981) 29. 1047 Cf. Segal (1971) 55-6. 1048 Metz (1990) 390 with Segal (1971) 40 and Griffin (1977) 43. 1049 Segal (1971) 40 with Griffin (1977) 43, and, more recently, Tsagalis (2004) 123-4 and Muich (2010) 98, also pp. 70-1, 88, 119; cf. Metz (1990) 390. 1050 See above, pp. 255-6. 1051 Schadewaldt (1997) 136. 1052 Lohmann (1988) 73, Tsagalis (2004) 134. 258 shared by Hector (Il.6.450-65, esp. 454-9, 4651053 with 476-81).1054 Hector admits this clearly: καὶ ἐμοὶ τάδε πάντα μέλει, γύναι (Il. 6.441). The mutual understanding between the pair is evident atIl. 6.484. Hector truly understands his wife Il (. 6.441-2, 460-5), even if his duties prevent him from doing what she wants.1055 These concerns and their common ill fate (ἰῇ ἄρα γιγνόμεθ’ αἴσῃ, Il. 22.477; cf. also δυσάμμοροι Il. 24.727)1056 underline their ‘oneness in disaster’1057 in a most eloquent way.1058

He understands her and she him as much as she can as a woman. She knows that Hector cannot be held from his martial duties and tries to keep him at least as close to her as possible; she never attempts to prevent him from the war.1059 The military advice she gives (which so unsettled the Hellenistic scholars) is just an expression of herwifely concern.1060 Andromache’s and Hector’s common wish and need to turn back to the place of their meeting after their parting shows a kindred manner of behaviourIl. (

6.495-6, 515-6) and underlines their affinity.

The construction of the pair of Hector and Andromache is also effected through the contrast with Paris-Helen and Achilles-Briseis, the couples which give us hints for the

1053 Cf. Griffin (1977) 52. This confirms that he does not care about Andromache just because his of manly pride, but also for her own sake. 1054 Cf. Schadewaldt (1997) 136. 1055 Stoevesandt (2008) ad 441-6. 1056 Mackie (1996) 101. 1057 The description is taken from Tsagalis (2004) 130. 1058 Seaford (1994) 334ff.; cf. Tsagalis (2004) 130 with fn. 353. 1059 Andromache does not ask Hector to abstain from war: she tells him μίμν’ επὶ πύργῳ (Il. 6.431) but she immediately explains that what she asks for is right by the wall Il.( 6.433-9). She understands that he has to fight. What she attempts is to offer some military advice and find a middle way in which he would not be so far away from her, but remain by the wall. The advice itself has been judged in many ways, but it seems that it actually resembles Polydamas’ advice (Il. 18.284-5). (See Tsagalis (2004) 126-8, esp. 128, Muich (2010) 58-9; cf. Metz (1990) 393.) Notably it was due to his rejection of one piece of Polydamas’ advice that Hector ultimately died (Tsagalis (2004) 128). 1060 Segal (1971) 55-6. 259 definition of a good marriage (Il. 6.350ff.; cf. 441, 22.105 and 9.341-343).1061 There is a stark juxtaposition of a life devoted to pleasure with a life devoted to duty civic and marital. The juxtaposition is particularly ironic because it is the one that will destroy the other. Helen and Paris fail to operate as a normal couple, even less as a beloved couple.

Firstly there is nothing of the love that there should be in such a couple. In contrast to

Andromache, as we saw above, Helen does not have any kind of fear of what will become of Paris on the battlefield. Indeed her attitude is problematic when she encourages Paris to return to the battle.1062

And this brings us to their second problem: their relationship is dysfunctional and perverted.1063 Their gender roles have been lost in it. It is not only that Helen fails to behave as a wife. It is Paris who fails to behave as man and husband in his inability to resist the power she has over him.1064 And he fails to gain Helen’s good opinion and respect (Il. 6.350-3).1065

As we observed at the beginning, marriage functions largely in contexts of rupture. All these factors outlined above which work out the illustration of the good gamos of Hector and Andromache are all the more effective for the fact that this perfect relationship is a doomed marriage. Death, absence and separation are always almost a tangible presence

1061 Metz (1990) 389. Cf. Schadewaldt (1997) 12930,- Stoevesandt (2008) ad 313-24; Griffin (1977) 43- 44. 1062 Graziosi and Haubold (2010) ad 337-9. 1063 Metz (1990) 390. 1064 Graziosi and Haubold (2010) ad 338. 1065 Cf. Stoevesandt (2008) ad 344-58 and ad 350-3, and especially Graziosi and Haubold (2010) ad 343- 58 on Helen’s character and relationship to Paris. 260 in its background.1066 The threat of a permanent separation and the absence of a partner create extreme circumstances for those involved. It is precisely these special situations which allow for the sentiments of affection to be shown at their starkest. Not only do they create room for their explicit expression, but they also generate the emotions of pain, grief, anguish and real concern which perfectly articulate genuine love. These feelings would otherwise have been suppressed due to personal or social reasons. The danger of separation and death magnifies and aggrandizes these sentiments and reactions. The fact of imminent separation also gives force to the description of the more mundane aspects of the relationship. The description of the value of Andromache as wife is far more effective in that the context of death gives a special colour to the account of her dowry; instead of a mere exhibition, it creates deep sorrow for herself and

Hector’s family in general who will undeservedly suffer and were worthy only of the best.

The homilia is loaded with the foreshadowing of death.1067 The certainty of Hector’s fate and Andromache’s widowhood come again and again throughout the episode both in Andromache’s laments (even while he is alive: for instance,Il. 6.497-502) and in words (Il. 6.407-13, 431-2, 447-9; cf. 454ff.). The separation is even contained in the brevity of the homilia. It is crowned into a busy visit to Troy and it gains its force from the fact that they will now separate forever. This brings the pathos to its maximum.

Homer makes the most of the factor of ‘absence’.

1066 Segal (1971) 39, Schadewaldt (1997) 128, 130, 1412,- Graziosi and Haubold (2003) 71; cf. Taplin (1995) 120. 1067 Schadewaldt (1997) 128, 130, 136, 141-2. 261

Marriage is given such a focus not for itself but because it serves as a microcosm of

Trojan domesticity, of all the victims of war, and of the normality that war will destroy.

This encounter of Hector and Andromache is placed in the context of the domesticity1068 of book 6, where the wives and the children of Troy are recurrently underlined as the innocent and weak victims of the war. The marriage of Hector and Andromache is a casualty of war and it is emblematic of all good marriages and all decent people who will die as a result because war is what pulls them apart. This is illustrated by the dislocation of Andromache presupposed by the place of the meeting itself: Hector did not find her at home Il( . 6.371-3), as was expected.1069 This single phrase expresses in effect the microcosm and the consequences of war on humans. War sends people out, it breaks up families, it distorts normal roles, and theIliad is always conscious of this, in book 6 in particular. Forall its thematic importance it should be stressed that this passage is remarkable for its brevity. The narrative lingers only briefly on the good gamos. This brief vignette must suffice for the whole of their relationship and all the other doomed marriages of Troy.

b. The Odyssey

The marriage in the Iliad derives its power and value from the imminence of separation and death, while in the Odyssey it is absence that drives the depiction.

In the larger context of Greek literature, theOdyssey is unusual in the extensive use it makes of gamos and its detailed description of what constitutes good gamos.

1068 Taplin (1995) 117 1069 Cf. Morrison (1992) 67 262

As we noted above, the ideal marriage is essentially one ofhomophrosyne , harmony in mentality (Od.6.180-5).1070 Nevertheless, the marriage of Odysseus and Penelope, which arguably fulfils these requirements, is at the same time a story of absence. Odysseus and

Penelope may constantly remember and desire each other but they are always separated.

Thus, even in this marriage, the most likeminded of all Greek marriages1071 and the one most subtly described, they do not actually come together, except very briefly in the penultimate book and then no more until the end. This paradox underlines the underlines the aversion of creative literature to happy marriage.

Gamos in the Odyssey is prominent for two very important reasons. Firstly, it is an indispensable part of Odysseus’ nostos, which is arguably the principal plot thread in the

Odyssey.1072 Odysseus ardently desires return to Ithaca but also and emphatically to

Penelope. Penelope herself as target is attached to hisnostos , as we learn from the very beginning:

νόστου κεχρημένον ἠδὲ γυναικός (Od.

1.13).1073

‘filled with longing for his returnand for his

wife’

1070 Cf. Bolmarcich (2001) 205, 207, and also Garvie (1994) ad 6.1805,- ad 181-2. He also refers to the Iliadic version of homophrosyne: ‘The Iliadic equivalent is ἕνα φρεσὶ θυμὸν ἔχοντες (Il. 13.487, 15.710) or ἶσον θυμὸν ἔχοντε(ς) (Il. 13.704, 17.720).’ 1071 Cf. Bolmarcich (2001) 206. 1072 Cf. Taaffe (1990-1) 133. 1073 Cf. de Jong (1993) 301. 263

Nostos and marriage are inseparable throughout the poem. Even when Odysseus is crying upon hearing the song of Demodocus on Troy, his tears are likened to the lament of a wife over her husband, killed at warOd. (8.521-34). When Odysseushas to extricate himself from the demands of Calypso, he downplays the charms of his wife in response to Calypso’s jealousyOd. ( 5.215-8). But the fact that he must dismiss

Penelope if anything underlines her importance for his return.

But marriage is not just an emotional phenomenon; it is a social one as well. Its social significance, its connotations and impact, is the second aspect of its dominant role in the

Odyssey. The success of Odysseus’ return is inextricably linked with the stability of

Odysseus’ oikos and his power in Ithaca. This means that this successfulnostos and reestablishment of his rule in Ithaca is absolutely dependent on Penelope’s management of his oikos, the preservation of Odysseus’ memory and her quality and fidelity as a wife.1074 The misconduct of wives has already been linked with the failure of the man’s nostos in the case of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra (Od. 11.397-461).1075 In Odysseus’ encounter with Agamemnon the latter expresses caution about Penelope, to be withdrawn immediately; but the negative potential remains, as shown in Od. 13.335-6.

Penelope’s contribution to Odysseus’nostos is another aspect of her fidelity and her status as the perfect wife.

1074 Marquardt (1985) 47, Tsagalis (2003) 50-2; cf. Mueller (2007) 337, also Emlyn-Jones (1984) 12. On a different view of Penelope’s memory see Mueller (2007) esp. 34051.- Mueller basically argues that Penelope retains Odysseus’ memory, and her fidelity is mental and not physical. 1075 Cf. Taaffe (1990-1) 135, Tsagalis (2003) 49-54. For the background of evil women in theOdyssey , who underscore Penelope’s wifely virtues by contrast see Zeitlin (1995b) 139. For the contrast between Penelope, and Helen and Clytemnestra, see Marquardt (1985) 47. For the effect of comparison between Helen and Penelope see Fredricksmeyer (1997) 489 and Morrison (2005) 80. On Penelope’s self- comparison with Helen, see Marquardt (1985) 44-5, Morgan (1991) 1-3 and for a view on their difference regarding the preservation of the memory of their husband, see Mueller (2007) 351-7. 264

And yet, separation is at the heart of this ideal marriage. As ever, we cannotexperience it in real time.1076 The audience is reminded again and again of the fact that they are apart. Odysseus is constantly nostalgic not only for his island but for Penelope as well, already from the introduction (Od. 1.13).1077 He cries in his desperation to return to his wife: ἱμειρόμενός περ ἰδέσθαι / σὴν ἄλοχον, τῆς αἰὲν ἐέλδεαι ἤματα πάντα (Od. 5.209-

10).

Absence is contained in Penelope’s intense reactions, her grief, tears and laments, which fill the whole Odyssey.1078 She cries when she takes hold of Odysseus’ bow (Od. 21.53-

7). Her heart bleeds when she hears of the lack of hope for Odysseus’s returnOd. (

17.150; cf. 19.209-12).1079 Her constant distress manifests itself in loss of sleep– it is significant that Odysseus’ return and presence in hisoikos mark her first good night’s sleep (Od. 23.15-9), despite the fact that at this stage she does not know that he has come back. Her distress at his absence, the desire for a reunion with Odysseus and the fear for the possible loss of her husband are always there. Even when the husband and the wife meet again after all these years, their reunion is remarkably brief. When they reunite, emotion is most movingly illustrated at its starkest,1080

1076 An analogue in modern novels is usten’s A Persuasion. The whole romance is based on absence, distance and separation. It is only some words, or gestures, but never a revealing discussion between the pair, that sustains their story, until their very final reunion. Their homophrosyne, if I may use this word, is depicted through the illustration of their character in their relationships with other people. 1077 See above, pp. 263-4. 1078 Od. 11.177-9, 191-3, 13.336-8, 14.128-9. 16.37-9, 449-51, 17.100-6, 19.509-29, 589-97, 602-4, 20.58-9, 21.56-7, 356-8; cf. 19.204-14, 249-52. cf. for instance Mueller (2007) 348. 1079 Cf. de Jong (1994) 35-6, Emlyn-Jones (1984) 8. 1080 Cf. Emlyn-Jones (1984) 7. 265

Ὣς φάτο, τῆς δ’ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,

σήματ’ ἀναγνούσῃ τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδ’ Ὀδυσσεύς·

δακρύσασα δ’ ἔπειτ’ ἰθὺς δράμεν, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας

δειρῇ βάλλ’ Ὀδυσῆϊ, κάρη δ’ ἔκυσ’ ἠδὲ προσηύδα (Od. 23.205-

8),

but briefly, and tellingly, not through extensive description of emotion but in a manner later to influence Sappho as a means of externalizing internal emotion, through physical symptoms (fr. 31V). The narrative after the reunion is full of Odysseus’ accounts of his adventures past and future. There is just one line describing the consummationOd . (

23.300) and then after the recognition scene, when they go to bedwe, just learn about the long story Odysseus told Penelope and which announces a final definite separation.

The narrative itself is no longer concernedwith their marriage. The recognition takes place in book 23 and we do not hear anything about this uniquely good gamos anywhere in book 24.1081

Moreover, it is only through absence that Penelope’s personality can be adequately demonstrated and her unique similarity to Odysseus proved.1082 This is particularly true with reference to dolos and cunning.1083 These are the principal qualities of Odysseus and are also the qualities for which Penelope is anxious to be judged (Od. 19.325-6).1084

1081 This silence underscores the connection between marriage andnostos . Penelope has done her work. She has helped Odysseus to come back to his oikos; but there is more work to be done by Odysseus where Penelope is of no use precisely because the oikos is her sphere and his next task concerns the community. 1082 Emlyn-Jones (1984) 14. 1083 See Marquardt (1985) 32-48, esp. 41-2; cf. Levine (1983) 176. 1084 Cf. Russo (1992) ad 325-6. 266

Her outstanding μῆτις,1085 of which she is well aware Od.( 19.325-6), matches that of

Odysseus (Od. 23.124-6).1086 Dolos, sense and excellent perception are constantly underlined as Penelope’s most central features, along with her fidelity.1087

Crucially their affinity indolos is what generates the restoration of their oikos, better than if they had planned it together.1088 This is achieved through the trick1089 of the bow, which is so successful a dolos that it gets the approval of Odysseus Od( . 19.584-7).1090

Its effect is to show Penelope’s similarity to Odysseus: s a he did with the physical dangers and difficulties en route, Penelope dealt with the suitors by dolos.1091 Dolos also effects their reunion in the form of the trick of the bed.1092

Ultimately dolos and absence are intertwined: absence exhibits thedolos of Penelope and how suitable she is for Odysseus;dolos puts an end to the separation of Penelope and Odysseus. These two related features generate a singularhomophrosyne between husband and wife. Penelope is unique as woman and surpasses all women Od.( 18.248-

9), as Odysseus surpasses all men (cf. Od. 19.267); each of them is capable of trapping

1085 de Jong (1994) 46-7; cf. Russo (1992) ad 325-6. 1086 Doherty (1991) 34. 1087 Steiner (2010) 25-8; see particularly Marquardt (1985) on Penelope’s dolos. 1088 Tsagalis (2003) 52-3. 1089 Penelope plays for time, knowing that nobody but Odysseus can string it (cf. in contrast de Jong (2001) ad 21.11-41, who however agrees that only a man equal to Odysseus could string it). The portrayal of the suitors in theOdyssey does not suggest any equation between Odysseus and themselves (for instance, Od. 4.333-4). Therefore they do not standmuch chance of success. The narrative suggests that Penelope is insincere in her speech to the suitors (on which, see de Jong (2001) ad 18.250-83) and another trick could fit this picture very well. 1090 See Marquardt (1985) 32-48, esp. 41-2; cf. Levine (1983) 176. 1091 Tsagalis (2003) 52. 1092 See p. 268. 267 the other through dolos.1093 Penelope’s unique dolos is eloquently illustrated through the emphasis on her weaving and the metaphorical interpretation of Penelope’s activity as weaver of doloi.1094 Very uncommonly for male-female relationships, they are equal and their relationship is a true philia.1095

Their like-mindedness is not confined to the possession of similar qualities. There is also an unusual degree of mutual understandingbetween these two people of the same superior metis.1096 Their intercommunication is unique: they can see through each other’s thoughts,1097 as when Odysseus reads Penelope’s demand for gifts from the suitors:1098

Ὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,

οὕνεκα τῶν μὲν δῶρα παρέλκετο, θέλγε δὲ θυμὸν

μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι, νόος δέ οἱ ἄλλα μενοίνα (Od. 18.281-

3).

This assured him of her fidelity,1099 later confirmed by the trick of the bed.1100 Her behaviour in this scene has caused a variety of interpretations.1101 It is Odysseus’ own

1093 Penelope believed Odysseus’ fake narrative in book 19, and he failed to understand Penelope’s dolos with the bed in book 23. For a reading which undermines Penelope’s knowledge and authority see Murnaghan (1987). 1094 Roller and Roller (1994) esp. 11-14, 19; see most recently Marrucci (2008). 1095 Bolmarcich (2001) 212-3. The language of philia is used also in the case of Hector and Andromache (cf. p. 257) and Alcestis and Admetus (see below p. 278). Yet it does not amount to the absolute equality observed in the present case of Odysseus and Penelope. 1096 Marquardt (1985) 48, Mueller (2007) 342; cf. de Jong (1994) 43-4. 1097 de Jong (1994) 40-1, 43-4, esp. 47-8. 1098 Marquardt (1985) 38; cf. Emlyn-Jones (1984) 10-1, de Jong (1994) 41, who believes that Odysseus is wrong in what he thinks and therefore the mutual understanding, at this point at least, does not exist. See fn. 1100 on this page for interpretations on this passage. 1099 Cf. Levine (1983) 176. 1100 Zeitlin (1995b) 123-46; cf. Mueller (2007) 348. Penelope has passed the πεῖρα (cf. Od.13.333-6). 268 love of dolos and his ability to recognize it in his wife that makes it almost certain that

Penelope did not seriously think of getting married again, but that this scene is just one of her tricks.1102 Odysseus reads her thoughts and perceives her reservations once more in Od. 23.115-6.1103

But there are other aspects of theirhomophrosyne the illustration of which is facilitated by their separation and the long absence of ten years. Among their other similarities

Odysseus and Penelope share a unique self-restraint, an ἀπηνέα θυμὸν (Od. 23.97).1104

Absence and separation had created a most demanding, a stern test of their character. It is separation that makes these narratives possible by creating such extremeituations. s

Thus, their behaviour is singular, when they restrain themselves from the spontaneity of a joyous reaction for the reunion with their spouse, but both of them wait and act with remarkable consideration. Odysseus does not rush to Penelope uponhis return but first waits to solve the problem of the suitors,1105 as advised by Athena Od( . 13.333-8).1106

His self-restraint1107 is emphasized in the text Od( . 16.191).1108 He hides his emotions very well.1109 He even resists his pity when he sees Penelope crying (Od. 19.209-12).1110

1101 See, for instance, Büchner (1940) 1478,- Hölscher (1994), Levine (1983) 177, EmlynJones- (1984) 11, Marquardt (1985) esp. 41-2, Murnaghan (1987) 109-110, Byre (1988), esp. 172-3, de Jong (1994) 40- 2, Zeitlin (1995b) 140-1, de Jong (2001) ad 18.25083),- Mueller (2007) 340-2. I think that there is not enough evidence in the text to prove that Penelope is seriously thinking of a second marriage (cf. in contrast de Jong (1994) 41-2). 1102 Cf. de Jong (1994) 40-1 in contrast. 1103 de Jong (1994) 43-4. 1104 Zeitlin (1995b) 126-7, 151, fn. 57, Morrison (2005) 76-9, de Jong (1994) 44, 47-8; cf. Emlyn-Jones (1984) 1-2, 12-4. 1105 Emlyn-Jones (1984) 1-2. 1106 See more on this scene and the implications it has for Penelope’s loyalty, de Jong (1993) 299-300. 1107 de Jong (1994) 30-8, esp. 34-7 and 47-8. 1108 de Jong (1994) 37; cf. Taaffe (1990-1) 136. 1109 Morrison (2005) 76-7. 1110 de Jong (1994) 35-6, Morrison (2005) 76; cf. Emlyn-Jones (1984) 1-2. 269

Penelope is as echephron as her husband.1111 She does not rush to Odysseus (Od. 23.59-

68). She is sceptical and controls herself before accepting Odysseus backOd (. 23.97-

110, 166-70; cf. 23.181, see also 23.72,172). 1112 She is moved by the news, hes even drops a tear (Od. 23.32-8 and 59-68) and yet she restraints herself (cf. Od. 23.72):

Ὣς ἔφαθ’, ἡ δ’ ἐχάρη καὶ ἀπὸ λέκτροιο θοροῦσα

γρηῒ περιπλέχθη, βλεφάρων δ’ ἀπὸ δάκρυον ἧκε (Od. 23.32-3),

ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἔσθ’ ὅδε μῦθος ἐτήτυμος, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,

ἀλλά τις ἀθανάτων κτεῖνε μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,

ὕβριν ἀγασσάμενος θυμαλγέα καὶ κακὰ ἔργα (Od. 23.62-

64).1113

Their uniqueness is observed by others (Athena and Telemachus), sometimes with wonder, sometimes with irritation:

ἀσπασίως γάρ κ’ ἄλλος ἀνὴρ ἀλαλήμενος ἐλθὼν

ἵετ’ ἐνὶ μεγάροις ἰδέειν παῖδάς τ’ ἄλοχόν τε·

σοὶ δ’ οὔ πω φίλον ἐστὶ δαήμεναι οὐδὲ πυθέσθαι,

πρίν γ’ ἔτι σῆς ἀλόχου πειρήσεαι ... (Od. 13.333-6)

[Athena to Odysseus].

1111 de Jong (1994) 48, Zeitlin (1995b) 126-7, 151, fn.57; cf. Emlyn-Jones (1984) 1-2. 1112 Morrison (2005) 77-9; cf. Taaffe (1990-1) 137, de Jong (1994) 43-4, Emlyn-Jones (1984) 5, 12-4. Her self-restraint is forcefully underlined through the reference to her attribute as wife:ἀ ντίον ἧς ἀλόχου (Od. 23.165) (de Jong (1993) 300). 1113 Zeitlin (1995b) 126-7. 270

Penelope’s hardness (Od. 23.97, 23.172) and self-restraint amazes even Odysseus, as he subsequently tells her (Od. 23.166-70). Likewise in book 23, her reserved attitude to the news of Odysseus’ return seems provokingly strange to Telemachus, who does not hesitate to criticize her, despite his father’s presence:

μῆτερ ἐμή, δύσμητερ, ἀπηνέα θυμὸν ἔχουσα,

τίφθ’ οὕτω πατρὸς νοσφίζεαι, οὐδὲ παρ’ αὐτὸν

ἑζομένη μύθοισιν ἀνείρεαι οὐδὲ μεταλλᾷς;

οὐ μέν κ’ ἄλλη γ’ ὧδε γυνὴ τετληότι θυμῷ

ἀνδρὸς ἀφεσταίη, ὅς οἱ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας

ἔλθοι ἐεικοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν˙

σοὶ δ’ αἰεὶ κραδίη στερεωτέρη ἐστὶ λίθοιο (Od. 23.97-

103).

But Odysseus knows her better than that. Penelope speaks for herself and refers to her reservations but does not reveal the further reason behind the doubts that prevented her from recognizing Odysseus, namely his miserable clothingOd. ( 23.105-11; cf. 95).

Nevertheless Odysseus understands the effect of the clothes on her, though he too is irritated when she persists. He intercedes and speaks of itOd ( . 23.113-22). As before, his understanding is accompanied by a smile thatmarks their unique communication

(Od. 23.111).1114 Their homophrosyne is a fact acknowledged by both.1115

1114 I may add here that it is a sign oftheir exclusive mutual understanding and ‘personal relationship’; it is an indication of the fact thatthey had their own codes, theirσήματα , which they shared with nobody else (Od. 23.109-110). 271

Finally, there is one other marriage in theOdyssey which might qualify as happy,

Helen’s and Menelaus’, depicted inOd . 4.136-54, 183-5, 304-5, esp. 561-9. This relationship, which underscores by contrast the unique suffering of Odysseus and

Penelope, is nonetheless a complicated one, in that it is burdened with the memories of

Helen’s infidelity and the homophrosyne is undercut by their contrasting accounts of

Helen’s behaviour in Troy Od( . 4.258-64 (Helen’s account); Od. 4.274-89 (Menelaus’ account)).

I mentioned earlier that absence tests the emotions and the marriage relationship as well as the personality of the wife. It allows for the quality of the marriage to be revealed in full. The interactive web dolos-gamos-nostos is at the heart of theOdyssey .1116 If the marriage is bad, as with Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, thenostos is not completed. If the marriage is good, it is.

This poem gives a sustained exploration of successful marriage to a degree we shall not meet again in Greek and rarely in European literature. But the presentation works by separating the married couple. They are together as characters only when they are physically apart. This construction of togetherness through separation in part reflects the difficulty of describing happiness. From a literary perspective Tolstoy’s statement in

Anna Karenina (‘Happy families are all alike; every unhappy amilyf is unhappy in its own way’) could also be said of marriage. But this is not just about the (literary) dangers of happiness. There is a last subsidiary dimension in the use of the element of absence.

1115 Foley (1978) 17. 1116 Cf. Tsagalis (2003) 50-4. 272

If this was to be a narrative of goodgamos in real time a crucial and very efficient narrative thread would have been lost. No narrative thread, with reference to domestic themes, can be compared to the target of the reunion of a most successfully married couple. This is well-known from the 19th-century novel. What sustains the narrative there is that we will see the couples together at last and it dependson the artistry of the novelist how s/he brings this about most effectively.

3. Tragedy

In tragedy as well as in epic, presence through absenceis the norm for the construction of good gamos. Of course, the many dysfunctional and perverted marriages of tragedy offer by implication hints at a definition of what makes a good marriage. The technique of presentation through negation is a familiar one,found already in the contrasts between bad wives and good wives in epic, with the former employed to emphasize the excellence of the latter. Good marriage is thus narrated through its negation. There is another, more effective way of defining goodgamos . If the good marriage cannot be described in narrative time, it can nonetheless be articulated. Impressions of the defining features of marriage in its ideal form are communicated to theaudience in an indirect way. The line-drawing of good gamos is again effected through its absence. In Greek tragedy the form that the absence of marriage takes varies from separation (Helen-

Menelaus) to rupture (Alcestis-Admetus) and to memory (Andromache-Hector). This recalls the regular practice of the opera of the Romantic and Contemporary period,

273 especially Verdi and Puccini, to interrupt and dissolve all ideal relationships that it features.1117 Pain and grief articulate love.

Absence is used to explore good marriage in theHelen , as in theOdyssey . Given its poetic relationship with the Odyssey, it is no coincidence that the Helen repeats the

Odyssean pattern.1118 So, absence and separation put theloyalty of the wife to the test; in this the wife succeeds. As there the test allows and in a way effects their reunion and future happy life, this time with no future concerns and separations.1119

Despite this crucial similarity, there are two points in which the Helen differs greatly from its epic source.1120 Unlike the Odyssey, where friction (Od. 23.181-230, esp. 181-3,

209) is depicted as part of the relationship in a gesture toward naturalism, Helen the takes a more romantic turn1121 and lacks frisson and friction between the pair. On the other hand, the undeniably good gamos has a severe deficiency. Homophrosyne, which is of utmost importance in theOdyssey , has a remarkably limited role here. Menelaus cannot reach Helen’s intellectual capacity anddolos .1122 Helen is the calm voice of reason.1123 Although they speak of their one fateHel (. 1034, 1038) and they work together on their rescue from EgyptHel ( . 1034, and generally 1032ff.), it is Helen’s

1117 This statement of course excludes the genre of opera buffa, namely Rossini’s and Donizetti’s comic works, which is a part of the opera of the Romantic period. 1118 Eisner (1980), Arnott (1990) 13, Holmberg (1995), Torrance (2009) 1; cf. Jordan (2006) 15-6, Foley (2001) 306; for a comparison between Helen and Penelope, see Holmberg (1995) 28-36; esp. pp. 28-33, Jordan (2006) 15-6, Swift (2009b) 420-1 with fn. 14. 1119 For Helen’s chastity see Holmberg (1995) 25-6, and more recently, Torrance (2009) 1-5. 1120 For the Helen’s departure from the Odyssey, see Foley (2001) 327-8. 1121 Segal (1986) 222-4. 1122 Holmberg (1995) 35-6; cf. Segal (1986) 234-5, Foley (2001) 317-8, 330, Jordan (2006) 15, Torrance (2009) 1 with references. 1123 Segal (1986) 234. 274 cleverness that saves them.1124 Her intelligence is recurrent in the remaining lines of the play.1125 In contrast to this, Menelaus’ poor intellect is emphasized in their attempt to find a plan for their rescue Hel( . 1032-4),1126 and it is further highlighted through his comic representation. This deficiency of Menelaus is a problem in a culture where the man is expected to excel over his woman and the opposite is at least potentially disconcerting.

Despite these differences, absence and reunion are as important here as they were in the epic prototype for the narrative of goodgamos to work. If in theOdyssey absence confirmed what was certain for Penelope, her fidelity, in theHelen it exhibits precisely the loyalty that was not a given and categorically proves false her bad reputation. In the mythic tradition, the behaviour which caused Helen’s absence and separation from

Menelaus, namely the adultery, was the reason for their problems, and perverseness in their marriage. In this play absence proves the opposite about Helen. It explores a scenario (drawn from a revisionist strand of the mythographical tradition)1127 where

Helen was ‘actually’ a virtuous wife. Furthermore her conduct during this absence showed up her excellence as wife and her qualities, and principally her cleverness.

So, her separation from Menelaus becomes a medium through which her quality as wife is demonstrated, because it gives the opportunity to express her love for Menelaus in all the tears and the pain she expresses over their separationHel ( . 123-33, 340-5, cf. 936-

1124 Holmberg (1995) 35-7, Foley (2001) 317; cf. Segal (1986) 2346.- For a more positive treatment of Menelaus, see Torrance (2009) 5-7. For Helen’s subjectivity, see Holmberg (1995) 21-40. 1125 Burian (2007) ad 1049-89. 1126 Cf. Allan (2008) ad 1032-4 and Burian (2007) ad 1035-48. 1127 See Holmberg (1995) 22-6. 275

7).1128 Helen grieves for her bad reputation and the evil that this has broughtHel ( . 56,

164-251), and defends her chastity (Hel. 48, 56-67) even when all hope for Menelaus is lost (Hel. 277-9, 293-303).1129

Precisely because the absence was entangled with Helen’s assumed badness as wife, which is here refuted,1130 the reunion is used to portray a remarkable intimacy, nowhere to be met in the rest of good couples in tragedy. Their love is finally spelled outHel (.

625-9, 636-7) in their joy at their reunionHel (. 623, 632, 6345,- 645, 6545).- The affection in this relationship is explicitHel (. 625-6, cf. 595).1131 The mutuality of emotions in this marriage is particularly emphasized in the repetition of their satisfaction of embracing one another (Hel. 628-30, 634-7, 650-2, 657-8).1132 From that aspect it is a representation of the olbos of Helen’s wedding (Hel. 722-5, cf. 719-20) which appears more or less secure for the future and blessed by the godsHel ( . 642-3, 1045, cf. 698-

9).1133

Where Helen and the Odyssey explore gamos through absence, the Alcestis does so through rupture. In the Alcestis we are allowed to appreciate the qualities of the marriage as it breaks up. The notion of a stable and well-grounded marriage permeates the Alcestis.1134 The benefit of matrimony is by turns stated and negatedAlc ( . 238-43,

1128 Burian (2007) ad 936; cf. Segal (1986) 237, Holmberg (1995) 34. 1129 I think there is here an intertextual play with Penelope’s statement at the end of theOdyssey , in that if Helen knew that she would return she would not behave badly. Actually here she does not know such a thing and she behaves perfectly even when all hope for return to Sparta is gone. 1130 Cf. Holmberg (1995) 21, 34. 1131 Allan (2008) ad 625-6. 1132 Burian (2007) ad 625-9. 1133 Cf. Segal (1986) 261. For the ironies in the ending, which reinforce the ambiguities of reality, see Segal (1986) 261-3. 1134 Cf. Kokkini (2010) 162. 276

627, 882, 887-8).1135 Yet, its denial by the chorus Alc( . 238-41) does not represent an overarching comment on gamos but is to be read in context of Alcestis’ imminent death.

The acknowledgement of Admetus’ immense grief is precisely what allows the narrative to articulate efficiently the emotional aspect1136 and value of marriage and overlook the material ones, the fulfilment for the individual, and the acquisition of children.1137

Ultimately, of course, its role in securing happiness is confirmed and -reestablished in the ‘happy’ reunion at the end of the play.

This is, in some respects at least,1138 a warm and stable relationship. Alcestis is arguably a worthy wife, as we will see, but there are ambiguities about Admetus’ conduct and his decision to accept Alcestis’ sacrifice.1139 Αdmetus is an ordinary man;1140 he is neither ideal, nor heroic, unlike Heracles, who enters to rescue the doomed wife.1141 He himself acknowledges his limitations. He regrets his decision and is acutely aware of what public opinion will say of him in a culture where public opinion mattersAlc ( . 954-60, esp. 955-7). He feels pain, shame and regret.1142 Indeed, in the narrative of this marriage, Admetus’ self-prioritization against his wife’s life is a problem, though perhaps less so for a Greek audience.1143 Still, his choice is completely opposite to that

1135 Cf. Parker (2007) ad 627. 1136 Cf. Kokkini (2010) 163. 1137 Cf. Parker (2007) ad 238-9. 1138 On the tensions in the relationship of Admetus and Alcestis, see Foley (2001) 30331; - cf. Dellner (2000-1) 8. 1139 Segal (1993) 71. 1140 Kokkini (2010) 127-40. 1141 For discussions on Admetus’ lack of heroism see Luschnig (1992b) and Rabinowitz (1993) 79; cf. Dyson (1988) 13. On Admetus’ unmanly behaviour, see Segal (1993) 72; 51- cf. Dyson (1988) 1823,- Kokkini (2010) 127-140; cf. also for a different, but not opposite, approach Iakov (2010) 9. 18 For- a sympathetic view of Admetus, see Burnett (1971) -6, 45 Lloyd (1985) 129, Segal (1993), Siropoulos (2000) 181-90, Buxton (1985) 85-8, Kokkini (2010) 123-80. 1142 Cf. Kokkini (2010) 135-7. 1143 Sicking (1998) 57, Padilla (2000) 192-3; cf. Luschnig (1990) 16-17. 277 of Alcestis.1144 It also marks his failure to fulfil his own very criterion of love in that self-priority is the reason he rejects his parents.Given his promises to Alcestis, his acceptance of a guest while mourning and,crucially, his submission to Heracles at the end are also dubious actions.1145 This is therefore not an idealized gamos, but a realistic one, in the sense that it admits of flawed individuals, decisions and conduct.1146 But the marriage of Admetus is a strong one, based on mutual affection; their love is both real and great. Crucially, this is a relationship of genuine philia (Alc. 201, 231-2).1147

In prioritizing her husband through her deathAlc . ( 180-1, 282-4) Alcestis fulfils

Admetus’ request for love proved in action (Alc. 339).1148 Most importantly, death gives extreme expression to her devotion to her husband in that death is the alternative to a life without him: οὐκ ἠθέλησα ζῆν ἀποσπασθεῖσα σοῦ / σὺν παισὶν ὀρφανοῖσιν, οὐδ᾽

ἐφεισάμην / ἥβης, ἔχουσ᾽ ἐν οἷς ἐτερπόμην ἐγώ (Alc. 287-9).1149 Her choice gains by the ramifications of her decision for her children, who will be left motherless; this is what

1144 Cf. Kokkini (2010) 131-2. 1145 Segal (1993) 145-7; cf. Foley (2001) 330. Admetus’ character has been a controversial issue (cf. Segal (1992a) 147). For negative readings of Admetus’ behaviour, see Goldfarb (1992) 6, 121 Rabinowitz- (1993) 90, Rabinowitz (1999) 101; cf. in contrast Halleran (1988) 125-9; for positive readings, see Buxton (1985) 87-8, and most recently, Kokkini (2010) 1768. - I think Buxton’s approach is better founded: Admetus’ acceptance is against his will, dictated by philia and charis and, last but not least, in accordance with the wishes and expectations of the audience (Buxton (1985) 87-8). 1146 Cf. Kokkini (2010) 177-8. 1147 Scodel (1979), Schein (1988) 1948,- Stanton (1990) 44, Goldfarb (1992) 1135;- cf. Burnett (1965) 244-6, Burnett (1971) 35, Rabinowitz (1999) 100. 1148 Cf. Rabinowitz (1999) 100, Bacalexi (2007) 11-2, 14. 1149 Cf. Burnett (1965) 2445,- Luschnig (1990) 245.- Indeed, she liked her life with Admetus and she implies that it would have been a happy one. Cf. also: τοιαύτας εἴη μοι κῦρσαι συνδυάδος φιλίας ἀλόχου· τὸ γὰρ ἐν βιότῳ σπάνιον μέρος· ἦ γὰρ ἂν ἔμοιγ᾽ ἄλυπος δι᾽ αἰ- ῶνος ἂν ξυνείη (Alc. 472-6).

278 worries her, and yet she resolves to die.1150 This was then by no means a straightforward choice.1151 Yet, her love and devotion is tinged with elements of realism.1152 Her request to Admetus for reciprocity for her sacrifice (Alc. 299-325 passim, 371-3) indicates that there are complications to her motivation.1153 This may be justified by her desire to protect her children Alc( . 302-19). Nevertheless, the way she stresses the value of her sacrifice (Alc. 282-4, 290-302, 323-4) and asks for acknowledgement and reciprocity

(Alc. 371-3, 299-302) is suggestive of a human aspect in Alcestis.1154 This likens her behaviour to that of her husband and accounts for a reading of this marriage as a realistic rather than an ideal gamos, but still one with palpable strengths.1155

For all its deficiency, Admetus’ love is real and is articulated after and through Alcestis’ death. The loss of his wife makes him confront for the first time the consequences of his actions and the very real problem of life without Alcestis, as he realizes the ramifications of her sacrifice.1156 His feelings at her loss are intenseAlc. ( 432-3, for instance) and his love is accompanied by respect and admiration.1157 His fidelity is shown in his promise not to remarry, to suffer and torefuse every pleasure in life (Alc.

328-68).1158 It even reaches an extent of passionate devotion in his choice of perfect

1150 Dyson (1988) 15. 1151 Cf. Dyson (1988) 15. 1152 Padilla (2000) 193-4. 1153 Padilla (2000) 189-95, esp. 193-4, Dellner (2000-1) esp. 7-16. Sicking (1998) 54-7 argues for a further complication in Alcestis’ conduct and regards Alcestis’ sacrifice as a choice compelled by duty and social norms; this has been refuted by Dellner (2001)0- 6-7; cf. Kokkini (2010) 1389,- who also argues that death for Admetus was not a social duty for Alcestis. 1154 Cf. Padilla (2000) 193-4. 1155 Cf. Padilla (2000) 193-4. 1156 Dale (1954) p. xxv, Burnett (1965) 250, Lloyd (1985) 126, Bacalexi (2007) 21-2, Iakov (2010) 18-9. 1157 Lloyd (1985) 126, Dellner (20001)- 7, Kokkini (2010) 127, 16970;- cf. Burnett (1965) 250. In Alcestis’ requests to Admetus, there can be traced the expectation that (her) absence would prove his loyalty and love to her (cf. Dellner (2000-1) 18). 1158 Cf. Dyson (1988) 20. 279 chastity (Alc. 1056-61).1159 He transforms his life into a living death because he cannot bear a life without his wife. His love then is expressed through his grief1160 and pain.1161

In any other context it would be improper and incompatible with the cultural expectations for a man to express himself like this.1162 Even here it has its disconcerting aspects. There is an element of unsettling hyperbole in the love expressed by Admetus, perhaps reflecting in part his awkward sense of his own inadequacyAlc ( . 950-61). But mixed emotions in the contemplation of marital bereavement are as old as the Iliad, as we saw earlier. That does not necessarily undermine them.

Yet, there is a remarkable lack of overt affection. Reticence and absence of direct expression of emotion and love is a crucial element of the narrative of goodgamos in the Alcestis.1163 This deficiency would not be disconcerting in any other Greek play, since tragedy does not usually feature such things,1164 but it is in the Alcestis,1165 a play which focuses with unusual precision on a single marriage. The undeniably genuine evidence of affection is expressed without the language of romantic love.1166 Indeed, there is no sentimental intimate scene between Admetus and Alcestis for their feelings to be expressed or their relationship to be shown in real time. The strength of Alcestis’

1159 Dyson (1988) 20. 1160 Alc. 42, 96-7, 144-5, 196-7, 199-203, 221, 224-7, 230-1, 234-7, 238-43. 1161 Cf. Dyson (1988) 21 and Kokkini (2010) 169-70. His overstated devotion to Alcestis (Alc. 897-9; cf. Dyson (1988) 20-1) reaches an extent which is rather alarming: he wants to take a statue of Alcestis into his bed (Parker (2007) ad 348-54). 1162 On the issue of male lamentation and Admetus’ behaviour, see Segal (1992a) 147-53, and recently Kokkini (2010) 170-5. This concept seems to survive even in Modern Greek Literature. To quote N. Kazantzakis and Zorba the Greek, ‘Now that you are no longer before me and cannot see my face, and now that I run no risk of appearing soft or ridiculous, I can tell you I love you very deeply.’(trans . C. Wildman, London, 1952); Τώρα που δεν είσαι μπροστά μου και δεν βλέπεις τι έκφραση παίρνει το πρόσωπό μου και δεν κινδυνεύω να φανώ τρυφερός και γελοίος, σου λέω πως σ’ αγαπώ πολύ. 1163 Cf. Kokkini (2010) 178 for a different approach of the narrative of good gamos in the Alcestis. 1164 Cf. Parker (2007) ad 280-392. 1165 Cf. in contrast Parker (2007) ad 280-392. 1166 Kokkini (2010) 164-6. 280 affection for Admetus and herphilia (Alc. 279) is expressed through her choice1167 rather than through an account of her emotions. She only once implicitly expresses her love for and devotion to AdmetusAlc (. 282-9), in her public, final encounter with him;1168 otherwise she rather seems cold and distant.1169 It is however important to note that there was culturally no discourse of marital love as we would understand it; in a society where marriages were arranged and based on exchange, there was little room for the romantic discourse of the marital relationship as the basis of all happiness.1170 Yet affection there was, as inscriptions show.1171 In the absence of romantic discourse, rupture (as in epitaphs) becomes both an occasion and an effective way to illustrate the quality of a marriage rather than language, which is just words and not deeds.

As noted in chapter 2, in the Alcestis – as also in the Helen – separation and rupture are ultimately reversed through a process which is not merely reunion but is actually remarriage.1172 The remarriage underlines happiness by revisiting the primal moment. In both plays the closure bears strong elements of wedding ritual.1173 In the Alcestis, the wedding ritual has a clearer presence; it is in fact a wedding.1174 The play ends at the point of the wedding to mark a happy conclusion for Alcestis and Admetus and restore their marriage. The epithalamial moment is significant because of the element of

1167 Burnett (1965) 245, Rabinowitz (1999) 100. 1168 Parker (2007) ad 280-392. 1169 In my view, there are even some traces of coldness in Alcestis (Alc. 380ff.). These can be traced in her speech earlier. Admetus is passionately in despair whereas she coldly declaresοὐ δέν ἐσθ’ ὁ κατθανών (Alc. 381), nor does she worry about separating romf her husband. Perhaps the reason for her coldness is that she is dying and nothing is of any consequence to her. 1170 Kokkini (2010) 163-6. 1171 Kaibel (1878) 44.23,- Lattimore (1942) 275, Pomeroy (1975) 92, Pomeroy (1997) 18, 131; cf. Tsagalis (2008) 187-92. 1172 See ch. 2, pp. 104-109; cf. Foley (2001) 310-2. 1173 See ch. 2, pp. 106-9. 1174 Halleran (1988) 124-8. 281 idealized makarismos prominent in wedding songs and because it inaugurates a new life for the newly-weds and is considered as the peak-time of happiness.1175 Indeed, the return to the wedding is a constant feature in the articulation ofgamos good in tragedy.1176 There is no reference to the events after the ‘wedding’;1177 marital happiness is illustrated through the moment of the wedding. It is theno accident n that we are always just taken to the bedroom door but not into the relationship.

This is also a motif in the conclusion the of Helen but less marked.Here again, unsurprisingly for what we have seen about the narrative of goodgamos , it is at this very point of (re)inception that the play stops. Menelaus and Helen are not to be seen enjoying their settled marital happiness. Despite the illustration of theirolbos in their reunion1178 and the confirmation of its endurability both during this life and after death, good gamos is not to be seen in real narrative time once more.

The primal moment plays another role in Alcestis the . We have seen its role as restoration, but it also plays an important role in shaping the contrast of a sad present with a better future. People remember not the relationship but the wedding.In this context, happiness in marriage is articulated through revisiting the joy of the wedding. It is very significant that in recreating happiness all these narratives recreate not

1175 Parker (2007) ad 915-7. See also Introduction, pp. 19, 24. 1176 Cf. Eur.Suppl. 990-1008, and also P.V. 555-60, Hel. 722-5, Her. 10-11 (Collard (1975) ad 990-1033 with Dale (1954) ad 914). 1177 This, in conjunction with Alcestis’ silence, hascaused ironical interpretations regarding the reactions of Alcestis, as well as the extent to which this is a closed happy ending (Burnett (1965)- 2, 251 Lloyd (1985) 127-9, Segal (1992a) 156-7, Segal (1992b) 20-1, 24-6, Iakov (2010) 24-7, for instance) or an open ironic one (Goldfarb (1992) 125-6, Mignanego (2003) 48-51, 68-9, Kurczyk (2007), Bacalexi (2007) 27- 8, for instance; see also O’Higgins (1993) 92-5, on the irony of Alcestis’ mute status in the ending); cf. the review by Goldfarb (1992) 109-11. Although Segal regards this as a happy ending he also acknowledges the ironies and considers this as an open ending and one of a solemn character (Segal (1992b) 21-2, 24-6). 1178 See above p. 276. 282 domesticity but the moment of union.Gamos is not perceived as a relationship, as a process, but seen filtered through one moment in time. Despite its different context, this is a motif in the recognition scene of the Helen, too, where it reinforces the happiness of the reunion in the middle of the play (Hel. 639-41, 722-5; cf. 568).1179

This revisiting of the wedding specifically recurs elsewhere. the In Trojan Women, remembrance of the wedding is employed to enhance the pathos of loss, as the frame of

Andromache’s narrative. Andromache recalls her and Hector’s wedding night (Tro. 675-

6), before she returns to the pain that this is lost: καὶ νῦν ὄλωλας μὲν σύ, ναυσθλοῦμαι

δ’ ἐγὼ (Tro. 677). In the Andromache, too, albeit to a lesser degree, the memories of her wedding to Hector and her pastolbos in a marriage alliance of wealth, offspring and renown Andr ( . 2-5) accentuate the misfortunes that succeeded it in contrast.1180

However, its presence in the Trojan Women, as part of Andromache’s lament, is more substantial. Here good gamos takes the form of memory; it is described both in order to grieve for what is lost and from an ardent desire to keep it in memory. The pain due to the new, reduced circumstances in whichAndromache finds herself is accentuated by her pain for the loss of her marriage:ἐγὼ δὲ τοξεύσασα τῆς εὐδοξίας / λαχοῦσα

πλεῖστον τῆς τύχης ἡμάρτανον (Tro. 643-4).

The death of her son signals the loss of the final remnant of her marriage to Hector (as well as of Troy’s last hope). Now there is nothing remaining from her union. This

1179 Cf. Segal (1986) 248, 254. 1180 χρὴ δ᾽ οὔποτ᾽ εἰπεῖν οὐδέν᾽ ὄλβιον βροτῶν, πρὶν ἂν θανόντος τὴν τελευταίαν ἴδῃς ὅπως περάσας ἡμέραν ἥξει κάτω (Andr. 100-2).

283 definite loss of everything in her marriage, her dead husband, and the imminent death of her son leaves absolutely nothing of this perfect marriage and makes her think of the vanity of her marriage, as if all these never happenedTro ( . 745-8), despite the ideal form that it reached. In its loss we see all the greatness of this marriage.

It is precisely this loss that is the springboard for her narrative of their idealgamos (Tro.

643-56, with 673-6), emphasizing both Hector’s generosity to Andromache (Tro. 673-4) and her modesty Tro ( . 645-6), submissiveness (Tro. 655-6) and respect for him Tro ( .

654).1181 It also allows an opportunity to display her loyalty. Andromache is determined to keep Hector in her memory Tro ( . 661-3, 665-72), and cares for what Hector will think for her even now that he is deadTro . 661-( 3), as Hector in theIliad had anticipated with pain her reduction to slavery. This not only speaks for the strength of the bond she had with Hector, but has implications for the admirable greatness of the character of Andromache,1182 the Trojan wife par excellence in this play.

Finally, in the Andromache, another play very much engaged with marriage,1183 ideal marriage is an issue of the past and is narrated in its absence. In this play, Andromache’s perfect marriage Andr ( . 1-5) is used to underscore the marital aberrance of

Hermione.1184 Hector’s death shows up Andromache’s devotion and excellence as wife in full.1185 Her laments for the husband and the marriage lost (Andr. 91-9, 107, 111-2) articulate the strength of her bond with Hector. More importantly her lamentboth

1181 See Lee (1976) ad 654. 1182 Cf. Lee (1976) ad 665-8, and ad 673-4. 1183 Cf. Kyriakou (1997) 8. 1184 On Hermione as bad wife, see Phillippo (1995) 360-3. 1185 Cf. Phillippo (1995) 371. 284 indicates how her marriage was a benchmark for her; and it also suggests that it was the only crucial thing in her past, since in one of the many Iliadic features of the play she makes no reference to her dead parents and focuses only on Hector’s death.1186 The protection she enjoyed from Hector is expressed through its deprivation now that she is threatened by Hermione (Andr. 523-5). Her love and respect is also depicted through the destruction of her life Andr ( . 454-7) because of his death. It is in its absence that the good marriage is described in the fullest, albeit concise, manner.

And yet this narrative of good gamos includes a glimpse of realism in that, in contrast to most other narratives of the kind, it recognizes the potential of friction in the relationship. The text admits that marriage is not a uniform good. Any real marriage then as now would inevitably have points of stress and discord. Very few of our texts acknowledge this in dealing with good gamos; from this point of view this text, together with the recognition scene of the Odyssey 23, is singular. This text, unlike the Odyssey, proceeds to the recommended way of dealing with this friction. There is a great emphasis on the role of the woman and the importance of her virtue in such cases: χρὴ

γὰρ γυναῖκα, κἄν κακῷ πόσει δοθῇ, / στέργειν ἅμιλλάν τ’ οὐκ ἔχειν φρονήματος (Andr.

213-4; cf. 2201).- The focus on female virtue is also the meaning of Andromache’s hyperbolic statement that she took care of the many nothoi of Hector (Andr. 222-5); this comment does not mean to undermine the quality of theirgamos but exhibit the extent to which female virtue can reach.

4. Conclusion

1186 Kyriakou (1997) 9-10. 285

In sum, in the genres we have studied there is little interest in depicting goodgamos in real time, in contrast to bad gamos. This is also true of the author who began our work,

Pindar, who focuses exclusively on the inceptionof marriage. In this they show an affinity with the wedding song itself, which metaphorically and sometimes literally stops at the bedroom door. In the cases discussed in this section, absence, loss and rupture are the only way such marriages can effectively work. Over and ended, they can be idealized by the poet; interrupted as in theOdyssey they can be anticipated, hoped, worked or prayed for. Absence makes the narrative of good marriage both convincing and successful. As with ‘the curious incident of the dog in the night-time’1187, it is what does not happen that speaks to us.

1187 ‘‘Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my attention?’ ‘To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.’ ‘The dog did nothing in the night-time.’ ‘That was the curious incident,’ remarked Sherlock Holmes.’ (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Silver Blaze) 286

Conclusion

In this dissertation I have explored the ways in which marriage in a variety of forms is employed in Greek poetry from Homer until Menander. It should, I hope, have emerged that the centrality of marriage to the life of individual, family and community gives it enormous potential both as theme and as image. Marriage itself, because of the various tensions potentially in operation both between families and in the individualransition t from one family to another can be the thematic focus, especially in tragedy. More often it becomes a means of exploring other issues. Some of the attributes which made it very convenient for the poets in this framework were its ritual dimension,its roles as public celebration and as transition. From this study it has also emerged how the treatment of gamos in poetry responds to and is necessarily skewed according to literary needs. This is evident in its clearest form in my last chapter. Good marriages are never covered and figure only in absentia because they are bad literature.

Although I am not writing a history ofgamos and I am interested in it entirely as a literary phenomenon, nonetheless the foregrounding of marriage not merely in relation to females but also in relation to males suggests that culturally it is much more important in the life of the male than discussion of many ancient sources would suggest.

In this respect the verse texts form a useful complement and corrective to the more ideologically driven statements in oratory and historiography. The diverse roles played by gamos as a literary phenomenon disclose its cultural significance, not only for the individuals but for their families and the whole civic community.

287

This work has shown that the study of marriage reveals important aspects of the Greek mentality and that it deserves further research. Naturally, as noted in the Ιntroduction, it was impossible to cover here all instances of marriage in Greek poetry. Issues such as marital aberrance in Euripides or perversion in the form of incest in Sophocles merit consideration. We also lack a systematic study on marriage in Hellenistic poetry, which would certainly be revealing. This thesis is not the last word but I hope the firstep st toward a more extensive discussion of marriage in Greek literature.

288

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